Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline
by Gecko Osco
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Janto main...others mentioned.
1. Part One

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (1/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: First Torchwood fic! A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviewss are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Enjoy!

**

Part One: Origins of the Aforementioned Feline, aka, Moses 

Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to think he had an _exceptionally_ good life. There was no denying such a simple fact, and he did like to relish in the knowledge, curling up on a couch or spot of sunshine on the floor, purring his contentment for all to hear. That was how he was currently spending his afternoon, curled upside down on his back, swishing his fluffy tail back and forth as a beam of warm light warmed his black and white fur. His eyes were closed in a lazy, satisfied squint, his paws and ears twitching spasmodically, evidence of a most wonderful dream most privileged felines, like himself, were privy too. The opening of the front door awakened him, but he did not move, simply waited for his Estelle to find him, which she always did. After several minutes though, he rolled up, annoyed at the absence of his Estelle and set off in search, sleepiness all but forgotten in light of his new mission.

He found her sitting in his early-morning-nap room, but she wasn't alone. Oh no, she had two other Humans with her, one he recognized from other times (the one who smelled peculiar and stomped around much too loudly for Moses' tastes), and another, female, who had an oddly pinched look on her face. Moses jumped onto the unoccupied chair and sat primly, tail twitching in slight irritation at the Humans distracting his Estelle's from scratching behind his ears. His Estelle finally noticed him, after an impressive purr that Moses was quite proud of, and introduced him to the female, Gwen, while she focused her attention back on discussing her faeries with the Stomper. Moses didn't understand his Estelle's interest in all the odd toys and pictures that scattered the floors and perches, but that didn't bother him, they made his Estelle happy. Humans worried about many strange things, things that Moses had no interest in. He could be napping instead, and if the Humans were truly clever, so would they.

"Hello there, kitty," the female, Gwen, simpered. Moses glanced at her and edged away when she reached out to pet him. "Oi, come here you, don't you want to be pet? He's not very friendly, is he?"

The Stomper replied in his usual loud manner, but Moses didn't concern himself with him, leaping off the chair to his Estelle's lap, who had finally started patting the seat beside her, not giving Gwen's pout one thought. He was a cat, of course he wanted to be pet, but that didn't mean he wanted her to do so. He purred deeply and arched his neck for his Estelle's extremely talented fingers, squinting his eyes in amusement as the female Gwen gave him an annoyed look before focusing her attention back on the Stomper. Moses studied her for another moment, amused at pure adoration she fixed the Stomper with, who in turn was staring at his Estelle with adoration. Moses glared in warning, with a kind of silent menace only a cat could achieve, at the Stomper. He did not share, no matter how much his Estelle was fond of the Stomper.

After a few blissful minutes of scratching, he was shooed away as the Humans and his Estelle moved their conversation outside. He sulked and let out an aggrieved meow before heading back to his sunspot. It was such an inconvenience whenever the Stomper came to visit, but he would bear it with grace and indifference; the Humans didn't deserve anymore than that. He curled back up in a tight ball, tucking his paws under his chest and wrapping his fluffy tail around his body. He breathed out and closed his eyes, fully content to take a second afternoon nap until his Estelle's visitors left. He smiled as much as a cat could and let the warm sunlight soak deep into his skin, breath deepening into rumbling purrs once more.

**

Correction, Moses had _had_ a good life. He mewled piteously under one of his Estelle's lavender bushes, crying in a manner only cats could as he stared at his broken Estelle's body, drenched with horrible water, still and unmoving. He really hadn't meant to stay outside so long, and he knew he should've heeded his Estelle's calls for him to come in, but by that time, the mocking laughter and fierce winds were too much for him to face. And then the rain came. His Estelle's cries scared him and he hid, hid away until it was all over and only his Estelle was left, completely drenched and frozen. He pressed flat to the ground and yowled again, a sound full of mourning that set off a few neighboring cats in the area.

Having no real concept of time beyond the increasing moments his Estelle laid still, Moses had no idea how long he stayed underneath the lavender bush, but stomping, thundering feet startled him and he jerked upright, tail puffing out. He felt a hiss build up in the back of his throat, wondering if the flying Things, his Estelle's faeries, were back again, but he swallowed down the fear as the Humans from before showed up. Moses didn't let his muscles relax, but he did begin to inch out from the bush, watching with curious green eyes as the Stomper collapsed to his knees and gathered his Estelle into his arms. The female, Gwen, Moses remembered, kneeled beside them, and murmured soft words to the Stomper, who Moses was sad to see had tears on his cheeks.

"It wasn't your Dad, all those years ago, it was you."

"We once made a vow, to love each other until the day we died."

Moses, against his better judgment, let his muscles loosen and he moved ever further out from his sanctuary, ears twitching back and forth from curious to unsure to submissive. He may not have liked the Stomper that much and he may not have liked the female with him, but Stomper had loved his wonderful Estelle and he mourned like Moses did. The Stomper, Jack his Estelle always called him, cradled her body for a time that seemed endless to Moses before he spoke quietly with the other one, something about contacting her family, not going in a morgue (whatever that was, Moses had no idea), police and other such nonsense. Deciding that now was as good a time as ever, Moses slinked out into the open, moved close to the Humans, sat down and meowed. If the whole situation of losing his Estelle wasn't so very tragic and horrible, Moses probably would have found amusement in the sheer surprise registering on the Stomper, Jack's, and Gwen's faces. As it was though, he could barely manage to perk his ears up, although one did flicker in annoyance when he was picked up off the ground quiet suddenly and squeezed against an ample chest.

"Oh you poor sweetheart," Gwen cooed. Moses didn't squirm too much, but he was not pleased with becoming a plush toy for the over emotional Human who hadn't really known how precious his Estelle really was. "Were you out here when—well, it's all right. You'll be just fine."

Moses meowed again, big, sad eyes focusing again on his broken little Estelle. They moved up to the Stomper's, staring at him, not allowing a distraction such as a stray leaf or random cricket to pull his eyes away from the Man. Moses could hear Gwen arguing how they couldn't just leave him here, how he wouldn't survive on his own with Estelle gone (which Moses found highly untrue…but he probably wouldn't be happy), but he continued to stare at Stom—Jack. His eyes were full of loss, much like Moses', and he pressed another, gentle, kiss into his Estelle's forehead before looking up at Gwen.

"The shelter would probably be the best idea—"

"The shelter?!"

The shelter? Moses did not like that idea at all. He knew all about shelters, he knew about cramped little cells with too small litter-boxes and cold, steel walls. Well, that just wasn't acceptable.

"We can't just dump him off somewhere!"

"Well then you take him!"

"We can't have animals in our flat, Jack; besides, Rhys is allergic."

Jack was silent, and Moses wanted to be let down but he still didn't squirm. This was the deciding moment; he needed to prove what an exceptional cat he truly was. "Don't even think about it, Gwen."

"What? There's enough room for a Pterodactyl but not one little kitty? Jack—"

"Pteradon, first off, and second no. He'd be better off at a shelter. One reason, the Pteradon. Second reason, alien threats on a daily basis. Third reason, Owen hates cats, and fourth, I'm not feeding and cleaning up after him."

And then, Moses felt Gwen take in a deep breath, as if steeling herself for using a secret weapon. He was definitely uncomfortable in her arms…cats were not meant to be held unless the holder was seated and reading a book; then, it was all right. "Jack…Estelle loved Moses, do you really think she'd want him just thrown into some shelter, where he'd probably be put down after not getting adopted?"

Again, Moses longed to correct the clearly deluded Human, because he was very adoptable, but the idea of a shelter was still not appealing so he stayed silent and continued to stare imploringly at Jack. He could sense weakness, the flicker in Jack's eyes as he looked down at his Estelle with tenderness and back at Moses, and while Moses was still quite sad and upset over his Estelle, he wasn't about to get dropped off a shelter if he could help it. This Man had loved his Estelle very much, Moses loathed to agree with this but there was no denying the facts, and while he would not be the same as his wonderful Estelle, Moses had a good hunch that he might be a fine substitute. He meowed again, this one so low and pitiful sounding that Moses was slightly embarrassed to have made such a sound (but desperate times called for desperate measures and cats are not above fighting dirty), but it seemed to have the desired effect. The last resistance sagged away from Jack's shoulders and he was once again a figure of overwhelming defeat, sadness and regret. He had no more argument left in him. Moses felt nothing but victory.

"You don't want the cat to go to a shelter, fine, but he's your responsibility. Make sure you keep him out of the main part of the Hub—I'm not cleaning up his guts if Myfanwy decides to eat him for wandering around."

And then, without preamble, Jack gently laid Moses' poor, beautiful Estelle back on the ground and whirled away, his boots stomping squishily through the very specific area of mud and sodden leaves, shoulders hunched in. Gwen sighed in a rather annoying way, to Moses ears at least, before she adjusted him in her arms (which Moses also did not enjoy, jostling cats who do not want to be held never remedy the problem, merely reminds the cat of how much he or she does not like to be held) and started out of the garden that Moses had known for a good portion of his life. Moses' tail flicked back and forth as he stared at the fading vision of his Estelle until the very ground seemed to swallow her up and hide her even from Moses' sharp eyes. His ears swiveled back, almost seeming to curl into his head, and he let out one final yowl for his departed, ignoring the shushing noise made by Gwen, imparting the last gift he had for his beloved Estelle who had been the best Human he had ever known.

Eyeing the black car with trepidation (historically, cats were not fans of cars, and while some defied the rule, Moses was not among them—cars were one step above a sink bath in his opinion), Moses was practically tossed into the back part of the car. He peeked over the edge and out the window for just a moment, just long enough to see flashing blue and red lights zoom up in front of what had been his spots of sunshine, comfortable chairs, and Estelle. The car moved beneath his paws and Moses sat back on his haunches, curled up on the seat, and rested his head on his paws. He closed his eyes and hoped that the next turn of his life was filled with enough sunshine as his previous.

**

Moses had really thought that his life had taken the worst turn it could when his Estelle had been taken away from him. He had been horribly, _horribly_ wrong.

Gone were his napping spots were sunlight filtered into his fur, no more warm scratches behind the ear to welcome his entrance, and certainly no more delicious scraps of meat leftover from sandwiches. Instead, he had cold, metal walkways, barely tolerated dry food that tasted to similar to _canine_ food (Moses did not like to either think nor remember how it was he knew what canine food tasted like, but suffice it to say that he knew very well), and too many missed chances for these Humans to pet him. Granted, he wasn't sure he would even want any of these Humans to pet him, but he was beginning to get desperate and would be happy even with the Human who was always in white and had thrown questionable material at Moses. He supposed he shouldn't have been peeking in his tiled area, knocking over knick-knacks and generally causing a quiet respectable ruckus, but that was no reason for the Man, Owen they called him, to throw green slime at him. Completely unnecessary, and that green slime had not tasted pleasant when Moses had to clean himself later.

The small Human, Tosh, was much kinder at first and Moses had had high hopes for her, but unfortunately that had not panned out well either. He hadn't been aware of how possessive Humans could be over such silly things (like hair bands and snaking, colorful bits of string that hid underneath every surface of his new…habitat), and after one small mistake of chewing on a string he shouldn't have, he was banned from her area as well. Moses, failing to understand the reasoning behind such hysterical fretting, had looked out for his own skin and avoided her as much as he avoided the Man in White after that.

Gwen, the Human who had brought him into this whole mess (Moses had since decided that the shelter HAD been the better of two evils and proceeded to absolve himself from any part in the events that had led to him to where he was currently staying), had seemingly forgotten her promise to him and to the Stomper. Moses glared at her when he saw her arguing another 'do-gooder' case, tail swishing back and forth violently from his perch in the Stomper's room, which he had conquered as his own (no sunshine, but at least it had a rug). Of course, the Stomper, Jack, effectively ignored him, as he had promised that night Moses lost his Estelle, which aggravated Moses even further. If this place didn't have the giant Bat that flew and screeched around the ceiling at differing intervals, Moses knew he would have taken his chance with the streets.

And, that was where Moses could be found now, curled up despondently in an empty office, bemoaning the cruel twist of fate his life had taken. Sleep, for once in all his life, eluded him (which, by feline standards, was a thing unheard of) and after several fruitless attempts and positions, Moses got to his feet, a low growl rumbling deep within his chest. He explored the cluttered office, jumping on surfaces he would surely be pushed off if a Human were to be present, sniffing strange smelling objects until his interest was lost. He cocked his head to the side and swiveled his ears as a sound echoed in his sharp ears, different and intriguing. Moses eyed the door to the office for a moment, weighing the pros and cons for venturing out into an area he had learned was not pleasing, before his curiosity (the bane of any and all cats) won out. He padded to the door, which was left slightly ajar, and squeezed his fluffy body out, following his ears to the source of the noise.

Moses made sure to keep a wary eye out for anything that could be threatening as he slinked, low to the ground, along the metal walkways and down winding staircases. He was careful to avoid the water that seemed to accumulate around the habitat, and made a point of it to completely avoid the tiled room where the Man in White worked. It didn't take Moses very long to follow the noise until he came to another slightly ajar door, one that was off to the side and headed even deeper under the ground. Meowing once in success, Moses pushed the door open enough for him to fit through with his head and made his way down into a musty and old looking corridor. There was little light, but Moses didn't need it, navigating down the corridor, the walls morphing into metal cabinets the further he traveled. Moses turned a corner and stopped in surprise at the new Human he saw crouched over a cabinet, rifling through papers with a fixed look on his face.

Moses crept, cautiously, closer, taking in the Human and assessing any threat he could possibly have. Now, Moses may not have been allowed to travel very far within his new habitat, and he had not been there very long, but seeing a new face was definitely embarrassing, and Moses wondered briefly if he was new, like he was. He stopped by the man's extremely clean shoes (Moses had to admire a Human with an appreciation for cleanliness), sat properly and looked up, attempting to wait patiently for this one to notice him. It took a little longer than Moses had patience for, so he let out a soft and friendly meow—which promptly caused the Human to startle, jerk upright, and nearly step on Moses' tail. He stared up in his own state of alarm as the Human seemed to realize how incredibly silly he was acting, straightened his clothing and then look down at Moses.

Moses was surprised that this cold and horrible place had such a young one, the Human looking barely out of his late kitten years (as cats measure, which was slightly younger than Moses' own four years), and while he had initially looked quite surprised, a soft smile spread across his face. Moses thought it looked like sunlight, which might have been a wee bit dramatic but Moses thought he was deserving a bit of dramatics after the past two weeks.

"Are you lost?"

Moses thought there were many different ways to interpret such a question, because in a metaphoric sense he was hopelessly lost in a world 'after' his Estelle, but it was also important to recognize that he was not lost within the new home he had been thrust into. Deciding it was simply too complicated to explain, Moses responded with a meow that bespoke indifference with a smattering of curiosity, head tilting to the side and bobbing in a show of his friendliness. It seemed to work because the next thing he knew, a very clever and dexterous couple of fingers were scratching behind his ears and under his collar, the Human crouched down to reach him, not caring about the dirtiness of the floor on his very clean pants. Moses purred, long and deep in a way that sounded like the rumbling of an engine, feeling euphoric and generally quite pleased with himself and his decision to have wandered out of the Stomper's office. When the fingers began to detract, Moses let out a meow that clearly said 'you right there, you're not done petting me!' and followed after, back arching and rubbing against a bent leg and tail brushing against the hand. The Human smiled a bit wider and returned to scratching and petting, his other hand reaching out for the silver gleam of Moses' collar. Moses tilted his head back and purred all the louder.

"Moses, is it? Well, Moses, not that I don't appreciate your company down here but I think you might be more comfortable someplace that doesn't smell like week-old, wet mold."

Moses wholeheartedly agreed, (the damp corridor's wet-dog scent left many things to be desired) but he continued to purr and let the young Human pet him for a wonderfully pleasant length of time. When the fingers left for the second time, Moses let them go without a fuss, meowing and purring his thanks as the Human smiled down at him and inclined his head in a polite gesture. Moses decided he quite liked this Human dressed in strangely formal clothing, who seemed as out of place within this cold habitat as he did, so instead of wandering off when the Human turned back to his dropped files and papers, Moses nodded and curled up next to him. He didn't even mind the cold, probably filthy ground. The Human smiled down at him as he continued fiddling with papers and drawers nodding his head as if in resignation, like he knew he would not win any further argument against the cat (which was entirely correct and it showed Moses even further the cleverness of this one) and that it was much easier to just concede.

"Suit yourself then."

Moses purred and shut his eyes, head resting against soft leather of his new Human's shoe, for once not missing sunshine patches or the soft laughter of his Estelle.

**

Moses and his new companion, whose name he had since learned was Ianto (which was an unusual name, but Moses had gotten used to it and now quite liked it), had established a sort of pattern for the next week after their initial encounter. The other Humans within the 'Hub' were often off running around the city, popping back in for moments before disappearing again (with the sometimes exception of the little one, who then was always on her computer), leaving a rather lonely and sad Ianto behind. Moses thought that the other Humans were unbearably rude (especially the Man in White but that really didn't surprise Moses) to the young Human in an ungrateful kind of way, so he tried his hardest to express his overflowing thanks. This mostly consisted of purrs, leg rubbings and napping with him while he shut himself away in the dark corridors, but Moses thought that was more than sufficient. And, apparently, so did Ianto.

After being set free from the office (by a smirking Ianto, usually after the others had left or were busy because he had knocked over a rather important vial the other day in an effort to chase a laser pen and had been 'grounded'…again, a reason to despise the Man in White) he enjoyed his freedom by following after Ianto as he tidied up the disgustingly messy 'Hub.' This was usually punctuated with Ianto recounting details about what was going on, which may have seemed silly, as felines didn't worry about such things as 'Jiroon ambassadors' or 'rabid hounds looking suspiciously like Weevil hybrids,' but Moses appreciated it nonetheless. Ianto would leave him in the office for longer than necessary sometimes, as it was his duty to feed the very large Bat Moses despised. He usually growled his displeasure at this, as Ianto always returned smelling very odd to Moses' sensitive nose, and he then proceeded to rub his own scent all over. Ianto apparently found this terribly amusing (for reasons Moses had no clue over; as a feline, he was much nicer to smell and pet than some huge flying menace) and would tease him to not be jealous. Moses pretended he had no idea what the young one meant.

Later on, Moses would accompany Ianto up in the much nicer room that was above the metal habitat, behaving indulgently to any old women or lost tourists who wandered in. Ianto would feed him (and Moses was happy to report that he no longer was forced to eat canine food, as once Ianto learned that Moses was not a stray but a new resident of this 'Torchwood' he returned the next day with a bag full of luxuries Moses would have wept for if he could) and then, together, they would head off to the underground 'archives.' All in all, Moses would say this place was now well and beyond better than the shelter, and as to Ianto, well, Moses didn't miss his Estelle nearly so much when he was around, talking and petting.

After a week of blissful normality, however, everything pretty much went to shit (as Humans were wont to say in particularly unpleasant situations). In all honesty, Moses had not meant to cause the near apocalypse by simply using a very large, very soft grey coat as a kneading patch. And while he vaguely remembered the Stomper wearing something similar, he could hardly be expected to remember something as trivial as that. Now, he was facing imminent doom, cornered and pressed back into a wall as the Stomper yelled at Gwen about responsibility and she shouted back that with all that 'the job' demanded it was unfair to expect her to always watch over him, meaning Moses. Now, Moses thought that wasn't a very good argument (as he had taken care of himself and then, later, Ianto had helped), but considering the very bad state currently going on, he said nothing. He silently cursed his weakness for all dark fabrics, soft and perfect for kneading, sure that he had sealed his fate and was now destined to life in a dank, foul shelter when, thank merciful Goddess (Bast, thank you very much… felines had their own deities), there was his Ianto in the doorway, carrying a tray and looking on with a bland expression.

Moses slinked over to Ianto after he set the tray down on a nearby surface, and rubbed against his leg, purring deeply in a worried, but supremely relieved fashion. Ianto glanced down at him, to the argument, and finally he noticed the coat resting on the desk, frayed threads and claws marks easily visible. He arched his brow down at Moses, who had the grace to look properly abashed, but after a few moments of the chastising stare, he smiled softly and shook his head. He leaned down and picked Moses up (in the proper fashion, not like some sack of potatoes) , waited for a moment, and then cleared his throat when it was clear that neither shouting Human was going to let up.

"Ianto—"

"If I may, sir, leaving a large coat lying on the floor is not the best idea when a cat is boarding in your office."

Moses purred in agreement, happy that someone understood that his resistance could only do so much against such a temptation.

"Well, the coat was here first, it gets to go where it wants."

Moses thought it was quite amusing, watching the usual eloquent, unflappable, and generally collected Stomper reduced to such childish antics due to the youngest kitten under his command (Moses had since determined that Stomper was some sort of alpha leader, a Momma Cat, which therefore made all the others his kittens…he was pretty sure that the Humans wouldn't like being referred to as kittens, but since when had Moses cared what Humans would like or not?).

"Might I suggest, because of the coat's stubbornness, that you no longer keep the cat cooped up here then?"

Wait…what? Moses suddenly did not like where this conversation was going. Gwen sputtered some about how they couldn't just throw him out after taking him in, which Moses fully agreed with, but the Stomper's expression was different. His irritation and frustration had faded, leaving a more contemplative expression, but Moses knew it wasn't directed towards the idea of him being tossed into a shelter. No, it was fixated on Ianto, Moses' Ianto, and he felt a growl begin deep within his chest, but kept it at bay. He was looking at Ianto curiously, an expectant and almost hopeful look, as if the Stomper, Jack, had been waiting and hesitantly wanting this to come about, but feared it wouldn't. Moses twisted his head back to look up at his Ianto, taking in the perpetual sadness that had been there since he had befriended him but purring at the affection and he could see there too, for him.

"Do you have something in mind?"

"I've always liked cats, sir."

And, just like that, Moses' life changed yet again. And, curling up next to his Ianto after a long day, purring deep as he sorted through a variety of paperwork that was undoubtedly for the 'Torchwood' place, Moses decided that it couldn't have happened about better if he planned it himself. Yes, he knew that his Ianto wasn't home as often as his Estelle had been, and he knew that his Ianto was still terribly sad (especially since he slept curled at the end of the bed and witnessed that sadness transform his sleep into wakefulness), and that it was hard, but it was okay. Because his Ianto needed Moses, needed him to watch over him, purr for him, and nap against him on the couch.

So, when his Ianto was half-carried into the house late one night by an equally haggard looking Stomper, Moses was ready…

TBC…


	2. Part Two

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (1/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed last chapter. I'll not waste any more words except to say more Moses goodness ahead! Enjoy!

**

Part Two: Initial Watchings: Conclusion, Lots of Bruises and Tears

The days prior to watching his Ianto being physically dragged through the door by a very unkempt looking Stomper were somewhat blurred, Moses thought with some self-chastisement, but without his Ianto there, the days all blended into one. The nice woman who lived with the barking canines (they were small, ratty things really, Moses thought that Mrs. Brown deserved much better than that, like a nice Calico) in the flat next to his new home visited often. She petted him and attempted to rouse him to play (which he supremely ignored) and would feed him some of the wonderful food his Ianto had thoughtfully bought for him. She kept telling him what a well behaved boy he was, which Moses thought would have been obvious but he enjoyed hearing it, and that his Ianto would be home soon. Camping…why Humans felt the need to leave the comforts of their homes to sleep outdoors, where there was dirt of all things, was beyond Moses' comprehension. But, his Ianto had looked cautiously optimistic about it, so Moses had tried to ignore the lapse of judgment.

At least Ianto didn't take any of his lovely clothing; he seemed to understand that he was embarking on a dirtying trip and had the forethought to not ruin anything nice. He had scratched under Moses' collar as he packed, mumbling out loud a checklist of what he had, what he needed, and all the reasons why going with the 'Team' wasn't a good idea. Moses had been helpful, climbing onto the duffel bag, sitting inside it and meowing playfully. It stopped the mumbling, (an unattractive habit Moses did not like of his Ianto…he tended to get unbearably sad when he did so) and Ianto gave Moses an exasperated look. Moses was pleased with himself; mission to frustrate his Ianto to forget unpleasant thoughts—accomplished.

"Get out, you," Ianto huffed. He picked Moses up and plopped him beside the bag on the bed, no real anger or annoyance in his voice (as if his Ianto could really be that angry anyway; a little fur on his clothes would help counter the dirt he was bound to get dirty with). Moses meowed loudly and arched against the only part of his Ianto he could reach—stomach. Ianto laughed softly then, pushed away from the bed and offered a pair of hands for Moses to nudge and push when they weren't petting him. After several wonderful minutes, Moses purred his thanks and walked to the edge of the bed, curling up and watching Ianto. "Oh, am I allowed to finish now?"

Moses squinted his eyes and yawned. He had walked away, how much more permission did his Ianto need (Humans sometimes…)?

Ianto had finished in a more calm silence, all muttering absent (Moses internally did a few tail swishes and happy circles, where his dignity would not be questioned), and with a final flourish of a zipper, he collapsed on the bed, inviting Moses to curl up beside him. Moses, not one to ever turn done such a tempting offer, promptly did so, purring deep as fingers scratched the back of his head (he made a funny face whenever his Ianto did this, but it felt so very nice he thought dignity could be damned just this once). Ianto took in a deep breath and let it in a loud, steady stream (a sound Moses had long ago discerned suggested trouble with Humans). Moses waited, knowing it would come.

"I'm bloody mad, aren't I? I mean, camping…with the rest of them…stark, raving daft, I am." Well, Moses wasn't going to dispute the claim (he already made clear what he thought of camping, hadn't he?), but he meowed in what was meant to be a helpful manner. He was fond of his Ianto, despite his 'daft' ideas.

"I mean, it's not to say I'm not grateful to be doing something out of the Hub, I am but…I shouldn't be—it hasn't been that long, not really. I can still—Lisa loved camping. I hated it but…and now I'm going with the people who—this is fucking mad."

Moses wasn't sure just a meow would solve this, so he purred deep enough for the sound to reverberate through the bed and arched against his Ianto's side, displaying the rather generous amount of affection he held for the young Human. Lisa, he knew that name, had heard it in bad fits of sad sleeping, had knocked over a picture with her image captured inside. Yes, he knew her and he knew his Ianto grieved deeply for her, like Moses grieved for his Estelle still. And, if his mutterings and dreams (most of them; some were strange and Moses had no desire to try and understand bodily functions of Humans, not now, not ever) were any indication, it had been just as unpleasant and frightening as Estelle being taken away.

"Sorry, Moses, I know you don't like it when I get—well, like this, I suppose." Moses agreed but he didn't change his purring pattern. "Well, I already committed so it's not liking complaining will change anything. It will only be for a few days, I'm guessing, just until we have a lead on what's happening to those people. Mrs. Brown, you know her, the one with the dogs, she'll look in on you, so behave. No scratched up curtains or couches when I come back."

Moses would have made a 'pfft' like sound if he had the sinuses possible for such a sound (he had heard Humans make such noise to pointless warnings many times and he decided he quite liked the sound), but all that escaped was a slightly different type of purr. Luckily, his Ianto had an innate understanding of Moses' language (which was just another reason why Moses thought his Ianto should be reborn a cat at some time, for being so clever), so he seemed to understand all the comfort, understanding, loss and compassion he was conveying.

"Never you, right? Of course, such behavior is well beneath you." Moses purred deep, pleased his Ianto acknowledged such truth. "Cheeky bugger."

And with that, lights had turned off and Moses had drifted off into sleep, moving from within his Ianto's curled arm to the end of the bed (he was fluffy, lots of fur plus another warm body equaled too much body heat for his liking) and didn't waken until he heard the young Human rummaging around the next morning. Early. Moses yawned deep and stretched, blinking tiredly at his Ianto, silently scolding the young one that he was lucky the rest of him was so nice; early morning routines were never attractive to others. His Ianto had made sure Moses' dish was full of food (a delicious concoction of fish-flavored nibblings), dropping in a few crunchy treats on top, which were much appreciated, and then refilling his water dish with clean water. He had scratched behind Moses' ears once more, smoothing back Moses' black fur down his back, causing him to arch his back into the touch. One last request (because, honestly, who ordered around a feline?) to behave for Mrs. Brown (Moses agreed to the old Human, but made no such promise about her canines should they be allowed within _his_ home) and that he would be back in a few days.

And that led to where Moses was now, watching in alarm and anger at the sight of HIS Ianto being half-carried into the flat by the Stomper, looking as if he had taken on a tomcat (or tom-Human, whatever the equivalent was) and had lost, terribly. He growled in alarm and concern and jumped down from the top of the couch (one of his personal favorite napping spots due to both its elevated height and wonderful comfy-ness) and hurried to the door, meowing in distress. He knew the 'camping' was a bad idea, but honestly! How much trouble could Humans get into in only three days? The Stomper guided a wincing Ianto over to one of the plushy chairs, a concern shadowed with guilt coloring his face, and Moses directed his ire towards the Stomper and his ridiculously large coat. Guilt implied fault—he knew the Stomper was trouble, even though his Estelle had never thought so, Moses knew. He always trusted his nose and the Stomper just smelled too odd to trust (Humans were just not meant to smell like they were constantly in heat).

"You should have said something."

"You were a bit busy, sir, what with integrating cannibals and all."

Moses growled at the Stomper when he frowned disapprovingly at his Ianto. His Ianto was hurt; you didn't scold kittens when they were hurt because that could wait—first you took care of hurts because they couldn't. Ianto glanced over at Moses, and spared a small, very sad little smile that washed away any of the anger he felt towards the Stomper. He meowed softly and worriedly, gently licking the tips of his dirty fingers.

"Let me see."

"Sir—"

"Now, Ianto."

Moses did not approve of the Stomper's tone (not one bit, and given the next opportunity, Moses swore he was going to bite the Stomper's hand), but he obligingly scooted away as Ianto gingerly raised his arms and stripped his torso. It took some maneuvering that Moses noted was not usually necessary, meowing again in compassion at the grimace dancing across his Ianto's face. Moses conducted his own inspection of injuries, appalled by the number of dark splotches coloring his Ianto's skin, judging that whatever had done this had either been unbelievably strong (his Ianto may have been on the slender side, as Humans go, but he was no weakling!) or had cheated and used objects. The Stomper apparently knew much more about the facts than Moses because he sucked in his breath and then swore that he hadn't shot a ubiquitous 'them' low enough. His Ianto simply rolled his eyes and tried to scoot back quietly, failing miserably Moses thought…Humans just didn't have the correct finesse or flexibility to move when injured in a stealthy manner. The Stomper agreed, and placed a halting palm against his Ianto's shoulder, stilling any and all possible movement, giving a firm 'stay out' sort of look before he rose and headed off to the kitchen.

"Shit." Moses looked sharply over at his Ianto, glancing back for a moment to keep an eye on the Stomper surreptitiously, meowing and pressing close (and yes he was mindful of the colorful splotches decorating the young human's torso; he wasn't about to go nudging in such an unadvisable situation, thank you). "Camping—never again."

Moses meowed in agreement, only slightly letting his 'I-told-you-so' tone trickle in.

"Cannibals—fuck. Only bloody Torchwood…should have been happy with the coffee and filing."

"As much as I enjoy hearing that Welsh accent of yours, it'd probably be best if you didn't talk. Your ribs could be broken, and until Owen can look them over, I'd rather not chance anything."

"I can talk just fine, thank you sir."

"Yeah, that's why you sound like you can't catch your breath…a side effect that's not necessarily bad, considering the activity, but I'm betting it has more to do your diaphragm not getting in a full breath without pressing against ribs."

His Ianto said nothing, just rolled his eyes after staring into the Stomper's face. Moses, for one, could feel an undercurrent of _something_ pass between the two Humans (felines had a much deeper sense of perception, something Humans could only wish to have), something that fairly crackled but faded too quickly to amount to much. The Stomper revealed what he had disappeared into the kitchen for, a roll of damp clothes and some gauze (which Moses only could identify because he had mistakenly tried to use a roll of it as target practice and was unpleasantly surprised by the texture and taste, expecting something more pleasant, like a towel). Silently, he set about cleaning up dirt and other various (suspicious) looking fluids, murmuring something soothing and wordless whenever he passed over something tender or hurt. Moses had to hand it to the Stomper, he knew how to properly clean and nurse, admiring the gentle way he took care of his Ianto, wrapping the gauze around the younger Human's torso with as much care as possible.

"You don't have to this sir, I'm sure they're just bruised."

"No, I really do. Tosh let me know all about your heroics when I dropped her off. What kind of dashing hero would _I_ be if I let you wander off to lick your wounds in private? Especially considering the whole trip was my brilliant idea."

"I'm sure that even you were surprised at cannibals, sir."

The Stomper laughed in a manner that Moses had not heard before. Not to say he had never heard the Stomper laugh, he had laughed and smiled plenty with Estelle, and Moses had seen him smile and laugh when he was confined to the office, but this was different. Before, it sounded, not hollow (for he truly found it amusing when the Man in White had chucked green goo at Moses…yes, he definitely had a bite in his future), but not exactly whole. As if every laugh, every smile, every act of happiness was overshadowed by an innate sadness, so deeply intertwined that it was impossible to separate one from the other. Moses recognized it; it was the same with his Ianto some days, not all, but some. But this laugh of his, this particular smile was complete, not one trace of sadness as far as Moses could tell (and considering the observational skills of felines it is safe to assume he was entirely correct), and it lit up his whole face. Moses glanced at his Ianto, taking note in the slight warmth in his ears and cheekbones, happy to see his clever Ianto seemed to notice the different smile as well.

And, for the first time, Moses noted a difference between these two, something he knew it would be important to remember for later. Something that Moses had not noticed between his Ianto and the other Humans that had been in the metal home, something unique. Something he could maybe help with, because Bast knew that Humans were utterly rubbish with helping themselves most of the time. Moses purred deeply to himself, immensely pleased with his acute observation. Both his Ianto and the Stomper looked over at him, Ianto arching his brow in silent question while the Stomper looked a bit annoyed.

"Yeah, I guess that's an understatement."

"Don't tell me that cannibalism is unique to Earth as well."

The Stomper laughed again, this one much more alike to his other laughs, wrapping an arm around Ianto's waist and helping him up, leaning the younger Human against his body when Moses' Ianto's legs shook. Moses leapt off the couch and followed behind the two, the Stomper guiding an obviously in pain Ianto towards his room, careful to not trip up their feet (while an amusing enough pastime that usually was, Moses recognized the inappropriateness such a game would have at the time). Ianto smiled gratefully at something the Stomper handed him, popping them in his mouth and gingerly laying down on the bed, not even bothering to take off his trainers. Moses hopped onto the bed, purred and meowed a few times and buried his head beneath his Ianto's hand, purring all the louder when the hand slowly began to stroke his head.

"I don't want to see you at work tomorrow unless there's a meteor about to strike the Hub, Ianto, clear?"

"Crystal, sir." Moses thought his Ianto sounded very sleepy and scooted forward enough that he rested lengthwise against his Human, evening his breath in an effort to help guide his stubborn Ianto to sleep. Moses saw the Stomper sit softly on the bed, enough distance away from his quickly falling asleep Ianto that he didn't disturb him with the movement of the bed, but close enough that a hand reached out and brushed against the still dirty hair. Moses watched the Stomper closely as the hand drifted slowly, hesitantly even (which Moses was quite sure the Stomper rarely did, be hesitant that is), down the slightly marred contours of his Ianto's face, ghosting across the skin and resting softly against the bruised and nicked skin at his neck.

The fingers lingered for a moment, transparent and barely touching a wound Moses had not noticed before, one that looked like a cut against one of the most vulnerable places a human had (and being related to the Great hunter cats, Moses could identify an attempt at the jugular when he saw one). Moses pivoted his head to look from the wound to the Stomper's face, which had a carefully guarded veil over his expression but didn't quite mask the audible (especially to Moses' superior ears) sigh that escaped.

"It didn't happen. Almost but…you came." Moses could have growled in frustration; why wasn't his Ianto sleeping when he should? Humans. "Don't dwell on it, sir."

"It was a shot mission from the start; you shouldn't have had to—"

"Doesn't matter."

Moses stared at the two, watched the fingers, which had once been at the neck wound shift to spread across the jaw-line, heard a soft, almost imperceptible (unless you were a cat) intake of breath, and felt a shift in the bed below him. And then, it was gone, the Stomper moving quickly, gracefully away, burying his hands within the folds of his large coat and moving away from them both. Well, that was rather abrupt and rude, Moses thought peevishly, but not altogether out of character.

"You—you could stay." Moses turned an astonished look at his Ianto, for once, at a loss for a single thing to say or think. His Ianto was not looking at the Stomper, but at the ceiling, with a distinctly glazed look in his eyes, no doubt because of whatever the Stomper had handed his Ianto earlier. The Stomper, paused in his booming stride, but didn't head back towards either of them, resting his hands on the frame of the doorway and flashing an unseen (at least by his Ianto, Moses saw it just fine because of his watchful eye over the whole event, thank you), mirthless smile at the prone Ianto. Hesitation, that's what Humans called it, a most dreadful affliction…luckily, cats did not have to ever deal with that issue.

"Ask me again, Ianto, when your brain's not so addled. Good night."

Suddenly, Moses understood what he was supposed to help with, what he could do to help his Ianto, what he was _meant _to do (not to say he wasn't meant to nap and play with his food, but even cats needed a higher sense of purpose every now and then). He glanced back at his Ianto, who now seemed well and gone, eyes closed and breathing even, slow, so Moses softly, (with the dexterity only a cat could possess) rose and wriggled out from between body parts and squished blankets. He jumped down and followed after the Stomper, the little bell on his new collar jingling after him as he hurried after the tall Human, Jack, yes that was what they all called him. He meowed rather loud, loud enough to make sure he was heard by the canines a door down, and stared up at the Stomper when he turned around and looked down at him.

"What? I saw food in your dish earlier." Moses snorted and sat down primly (as if he was worried about food at such an hour). He meowed again, glancing backwards and then at the Stomper again, this one louder, even more insistent.

Heaving a sigh the Stomper crouched down and offered his hand to Moses to sniff (which Moses declined; he smelt him just fine without having fingers shoved under his delicate nose) before petting the fur on his hand, perhaps a bit rougher than Moses liked, but not entirely unpleasant. Moses purred his thanks and meowed again, this one much more reasonable and rubbed against the Stomper's leg. He was positive this Human was not as clever as his Ianto, so he wouldn't understand what Moses was trying to say with all his meows and purrs, but he felt compelled to at least tell him. Tell him that while he did not care for him, for his stomping and strange smell, for his fake laughs and booming shouts, for his indifference towards him, for his Estelle, or many other faults (which were really just too numerous to count), for some unknown and Bast-knows-why reason…

..his Ianto was fond of him, and smiled softly around him, and didn't seem nearly as sad (most of the time at least, sometimes not being sad would later bring about immense sadness Moses could not understand) with him near and cleaning his hurts. And was so willing to forgive the Stomper all those faults because he was more than fond of him. He was his Ianto's. And, because of that, Moses was going to help them both, whether they liked it or not…because they needed it. And as a feline, he knew what was best for both of them.

But, as the Stomper was not clever enough to discern all of this, he just went on scratching his ears.

"Do me a favor, Moses, would you? Keep an eye on him, all right." Moses squinted his eyes in annoyance but purred; as if he wouldn't.

"You know, you almost lost another owner (Moses ignored that word given the seriousness of what he was hearing…the Stomper was clearly distraught enough to think that he had a master; he was a feline), and it would've been my fault again. Just seem to have the luck, don't I?"

Well, Moses sure hoped he wasn't implying that _he_ was some sort of bad luck charm; he wasn't a full black cat or anything. The hand pulled away and the Stomper straightened to his full height, smirking down at him in a manner that he supposed would be attractive towards other Humans (again, Moses did not know, nor did he have an interest to know) before tucking his hands within the coat again. He nodded, eyes fixating behind Moses for a moment before smirking in his usual manner, whirling about like he never looked back (as if Moses didn't know what he was looking back at and thinking about, please, it was almost an insult), exiting the flat in a flap of his coat, shutting the light off. Moses watched for a moment longer, tail swishing along the carpeted floor, formulating his plan.

He meowed in a satisfied manner and headed back towards his Ianto, a slight bounce to his step as his mind wandered over all the different possibilities he had, had to make his Ianto much happier (because honestly, who else would do it right?).

**

Moses was beginning to have serious doubts about this 'Torchwood,' watching his Ianto help the very sad and shaking little Human through his door, a look of pure compassion and understanding on his face. Little more than a week or two had passed since his Ianto had been so terribly hurt, some of the more nasty splotches still showed faintly and his winces weren't entirely gone yet, and now here was this female, crying and upset. This 'Torchwood' was obviously much too dangerous to the health, Moses thought with alarm, and maybe he should change the parameters of his 'mission.' The little, female Human, Tosh he remembered from his 'dark weeks,' (the one who had been quite upset when he chewed through the bits of string…which Moses could admit had not been his brightest moment) looked quite horrible, streaks of tears down her face, hair disarrayed, and hands clutching tightly, be it on his Ianto's coat or her own clothing. Moses felt a wave of sympathy for this poor little Human, and he promptly jumped down from his favorite couch, making space for her.

His Ianto spared Moses a grateful look as he guided the distraught Human, Tosh, into the wonderful napping spot, grabbing a nearby afghan and handing it to her wordlessly. She took it and wrapped it around her shoulders, eyes slipping shut, buds of dew-like moisture escaping out but managing a small smile of thanks. Ianto murmured a comfort and strode purposely into the kitchen; Moses hesitated for only a moment before following. Moses watched his Ianto rummage around in his cupboards, drawing out coffee (the nice smelling liquid that his Ianto practically lived off of…Moses didn't like it beside the smell, which had humored Ianto when he offered him some to taste; Moses had found nothing humorous in such a dirty trick) cups and fiddling with the shiny instrument that made said coffee. Ianto had an overwhelming sad look on his face, so much that Moses couldn't stop the comforting meow, which drew Ianto's attention for just a moment. His Ianto put down the cups and other necessities and knelt down, stroking Moses' head and scratching behind his ears.

"Moe, go to Tosh, she could use a handsome face like yours right now. I'll be right there." Moses purred deep in agreement, nudging the hand once more before he turned around and padded back towards the now sniffling Tosh. His Ianto was always trying to help others (Moses had even seen him show kindness to the rat-canines down the hall), so it would be simply preposterous if Moses did not do the same thing. He made his way back to the very pitiful Human, rubbing against her leg and meowing for her before he jumped up beside her on the couch.

The Human looked over at him, hiccupping sadly, but a small smile flitting across her face nonetheless, raising a shaking hand to pet his fur. She was slow and distracted, but Moses quite liked her method, stroking down his back, fluffing through his tail, and reaching back behind his ears. He even let her scratch under his chin (an honor he should've only given to his Ianto, but she was very good at it so he didn't mind the breach in etiquette), purring deep and loud, nudging her hand with his nose. He crawled up onto her legs and meowed loudly when her hand started to pull away, pulling a soft chuckle from her chapped lips, which made Moses feel incredibly proud of himself. He meowed once more in satisfaction and curled on her lap, half resting on her lap and against her stomach and the other half on the couch, eyes closing as she continued to scratch behind his ears, making sure to keep purring, even though he was quite sleepy now. Humans always liked it when he purred, so he made sure to keep it up for the little Human who so obviously needed him.

Moses heard his Ianto's footsteps and blinked his eyes open to look up at him, purring louder as Tosh's fingers tickled his back, near his tail (sweet goddess, that felt good…his back always did that odd wave motion whenever he was scratched on THAT spot…if Humans only knew) before leaving him all together, accepting the cup she was offered. His Ianto flashed him a smile, one full of thanks and affection, which promptly made Moses purr ever louder, now rivaling the sound of any passing car. He was rather pleased with his efforts as well, and he was sure he had a can of turkey and giblets goodness from the canned dinners tonight. He licked his lips in anticipation before he started to clean his fur absently, not wanting to be rude and interrupt the silence that had enveloped his Ianto and Tosh. It was a little awkward cleaning his chest while still resting half on and half off the small Human's lap, but he thought he managed well enough.

"He's much more behaved here than he was at the Hub." The little one's voice was thready, but otherwise kind and Moses knew she was complimenting him (because, honestly, he had seen the Humans at their 'Hub'…no one behaved there). "Very affectionate."

"Didn't have a chance before, really. Cats can't be expected to behave when they're confined and caged. He just needed a space where he could roam, and where he wouldn't get Gergan blood flung at him."

Tosh chuckled softly, which made Moses smile in his own way. "Let me guess, Owen."

"Who else?" Ianto smiled back, a definite trace of humor in his voice, taking a long sip of his drink.

"Well, I think it's good that he's here, he seems to like you and—well, I'm happy you're not entirely alone here." Moses wasn't sure what she meant be 'entirely,' as his Ianto wasn't alone at all, and after his plan succeeded he wouldn't be alone two-fold. But, seeing as she was upset, he let her erroneous comment slide (he was an awfully forgiving feline, one of his better attributes).

"Tosh—whatever you heard—"

"No! I'm so sorry, Ianto…I didn't—I mean…I had no right and if you're angry—"

"It would be calling the pot black, wouldn't it, Tosh? Everyone makes mistakes…some more than others admittedly, but everyone still. You forgave me for mine, and I think mine was a bit graver in hindsight, I forgive you for yours."

Moses watched his Ianto reach across and grab a shaking hand (Tosh had proven to be clever herself, setting down the cup on a nearby table when she almost spilled some coffee on Moses' paw…but she averted disaster so all was well), and give it a comforting squeeze. Moses had to admire his Ianto, his ability to calm others and show such affection when he himself was so sad most of the time was astounding. He kept his silence though, resting his head on a leg and purring softly; his Ianto may have been his, but Moses knew how to share, and right now little Tosh needed his clever Ianto much more (felines were extremely self-sacrificing when the moment called it of them).

"Ianto, I'm so sorry about everything. I didn't—you should have said something, to me, to Jack, anyone really. You shouldn't keep all that anger and hurt inside, it's not…it's not pretty."

His Ianto gave a small chuckle before smiling in a rather rueful manner. "So I gathered. Don't take this the wrong way, Tosh, but you're not the best actor, especially when you're taken by surprise." Moses was not surprised at this, most Humans were terrible at concealing their emotions, making their intentions and fears plainly known. His Ianto was an exception to this, which Moses admittedly admired, but he also knew Humans were not felines. But, he had a plan so Moses did not let himself worry too much about that at the moment.

"But Ianto—"

"Honestly, Tosh, you just had the luck of catching me on a bad morning." He smiled softly and leaned back into the back of the couch again. "It is getting better, and the bad mornings are getting fewer. I promise, really."

Tosh was silent, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth (in a manner Moses found made Humans look infinitesimally younger than they were, which in turn was distracting to other Humans…) before she gave a small, watery smile, reaching for her cup on the table. "You can talk to me. If you have a bad day."

Ianto gave her another one of his kindest looks before putting aside his cup and letting out a genuine laugh, one that Moses always looked forward to hearing but had only heard sparingly. "You know, it's bad form for the one supposed to be comforting getting comforted. It's you who had the rotten day, not me."

"Yes, well, when as Torchwood ever done things normally?"

Moses shifted off Tosh's legs as the tears came back, letting her shift over to his Ianto, who seemed to have been waiting for her to do this all night. He curled on the couch and stayed on as a silent presence, knowing that whatever was bothering the little one needed to be let out and he had no help for that. He could understand her cries, recognized a broken heart when he heard one, but Humans were so much different than cats when it came to nursing those hurts. Nothing he could offer would help her now, maybe later (and that meant she was compelled to visit both his Ianto and Moses from now on…she was quite pleasant when not fretting over her glowing screens or chewed 'wires'), but for now, he knew his Ianto would be enough. He yawned loudly and rested his head on his curled front paws, letting out one last purr and deep breath as he let sleep claim him, his lullaby an echo of sobs and comforts.

**

Later that night, Moses heard the front door open and he lifted his head from where it was resting against the sleeping, and now much calmer, Tosh's arm. He could see his Ianto in the doorway, the light from the hallway darkening his profile, but Moses knew it was him (cat eyes were much superior to Humans after all, even when still half asleep), and he could smell the other who was standing outside. The Stomper glanced past Ianto for a moment, resting on the little Tosh, eyes locking with Moses as well, before he looked back at his Ianto, speaking softly so as not to disturb a now shifting Tosh. Moses did not shift with her (cats never moved in their sleep for another, which was just silly to think he would do so), but instead focused more awake eyes on the two in the doorway. Goddess, he could smell the Stomper's interest from here…his plan might turn out much easier than Moses had initially planned.

The words were too soft, even for Moses' ears to catch, but the Stomper gave a pleasant smile to his Ianto, resting a grateful hand against the younger Human's shoulder before nodding and moving away. Moses watched his Ianto close the door quietly, and pad softly back to his room. He paused next to the couch, staring at Moses, exposing a slightly confused and bemused expression (one which Moses did claim to be responsible for) before patting his leg, cocking his head after him. Moses understood and gently, gracefully, rose and hopped off the couch, not moving one hair on Tosh's little head. Ianto bent down and scooped Moses off the floor, carrying his still sleepy form across the flat and too his room.

"Come on you, if you keep sleeping with Tosh, she'll find herself on the floor come morning, couch hog."

Moses had no idea what his Ianto meant. But, he did know that he was sure to have more interesting days to come. This bloody 'Torchwood' and all was going to be the death of his relaxation…

TBC…


	3. Part Three

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (3/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! This part is a bit shorter than the previous two but I promise there is a good reason for it! Enjoy!

**

Part Three: Continued Observation, Findings Suggest the Foolishness of Humans

Now, contrary to most belief, his Ianto did not spend all waking moments at the 'Hub' if he could help it, and he took days off…albeit, Moses was first to admit that those days were few and far between. Nonetheless, they happened. Like one was happening right now, his Ianto flipping through a yellow-paged book and talking on the phone in the middle of the day, dressed in a simple outfit (Moses had since determined what was 'fancy' and what was not…it made a huge difference when it came to kneading or shedding). Now, Moses did not necessarily know what he was talking about, he hardly concerned himself with the worries of humans, even when it came from his Ianto, but he could hazard a guess…and he was not pleased. He narrowed his green eyes on the small, uncomfortable traveling cage resting in the middle of the flat, ominous and dreadful in a way only felines could comprehend. There were only two reasons why this box-of-doom was ever taken down: one, he was being taken on a trip, (which Moses doubted, his Ianto had already had plenty of people over to his flat, he apparently did not need to travel to see others) or he was being forced to see the VET.

Moses inwardly shuddered at the thought, but not enough that his discomfort and unease would be noticed by his Ianto (a cat had to show his calm composure at all times, even when faced with certain doom). He honestly did not think this was necessary, he felt fine, his temperature was normal, and his coat was as soft and shiny as ever…no need for the highly uncomfortable procedure of having the cold stick shoved up his…well, just shoved in a personal space of his. Moses frowned and growled deep in his chest, unable to hide his displeasure at such a thought, and he was apparently loud enough to catch his Ianto's attention, who merely smiled at him in an amused sort of way. Moses did not approve and flicked his tail in annoyance, turning his head up and to the side, effectively getting across his point.

Moses slinked off, crawling under the bed and skulking (certainly not hiding, thank you) up against the wall, wondering what he could have possibly done in a past life (or the current one, he wasn't picky) to have warranted this punishment. He knew, logically, that visits to the VET were helpful in the long run of things; the foul tasting medicine and needles that were associated with these visits could help him live longer or healthier, but that didn't mean he had to like it. His Estelle had hardly ever taken him, only once or twice early in his life with her, when he had been just a kitten really, and he had stayed healthy since then, hadn't he? Then again, his Estelle did not have the strange life that his Ianto had (flying monsters aside)…that probably made a huge difference in the viewing the necessity for VET visits. And, he had done some admittedly silly things during his 'dark weeks' (licking that green liquid off had not been his best decision…and he did slightly worry about that) so maybe this was a necessary evil. After all, he needed to be around and healthy to implement his genius plan—no one else would know how to do it properly.

But that didn't mean that Moses had to be happy about the visit, so he stayed under the bed. He was going to make this as uncomfortable for his Ianto as it was undoubtedly going to be for him (felines were not above being vindictive, even to their loved ones). He could understand, yes, but cooperate? Now that was asking too much.

Moses stayed underneath the bed for a good amount of time (enough that he began to question whether he did have to fear a VET visit…but his Ianto was clever so it'd be best to be wary regardless), a sleepy haze settling over his consciousness, making it hard to keep his eyes open past half mast. It had been some time since the night full of tears from the little Human (and the impromptu midnight visit from the Stomper, which Moses thought was odd, even for being pseudo-nocturnal), but things had seemed to calm down some at the 'Torchwood,' the catalyst Moses had decided was the cause for all the problems. The little Tosh had visited more, her mood gradually improving each time until one could never tell she had cried for so long and hard for someone Moses had since learned was called 'Mary.' And she was wonderfully pleasant and quite clever in her own right—Moses decided if he hadn't already committed to his plan between his Ianto and the Stomper he would have attempted one between the very lovely Tosh and his Ianto. But, alas, she seemed much too preoccupied and Moses had already committed himself to his aforementioned plan. Hindsight; Tosh did not smell strange like the Stomper which was definite plus…but at least the Stomper petted nicely (he could be redeemed in the big scheme of things for that alone, smell aside).

A pattern had been established between his Ianto and the little Tosh, varying between days and activities of course, but the basic reason for each visit remained the same. While Moses was an excellent listener (in fact he'd go so far as to say he was exceptional, even when measuring against other felines), he could not offer the advice and comfort verbally, not in a way that his Ianto seemed to need. Tosh could though, and while Moses had been able to discern through his stealthy observings that Tosh had been a part of what made his Ianto so sad at times, they were kindred spirits. Anyone who took a moment to look could see that indisputable fact and they talked and talked, airing out demons in a way Moses could not. But, he didn't mind that he couldn't (he was a cat, not a god…he couldn't be expected to do everything), and he was there offering his comfort for them both when they were ready for him, with purring and meowing and general adorable qualities that would make hardened criminals grin.

Now, Moses was happy to report, his Ianto, though still harboring sadness (but that was completely reasonably, Moses thought, because he still felt sadness over his Estelle) about his Lisa and the horrible events surrounding her, smiled much more often, real smiles that lit up his face. Moses was the first to admit his Ianto was an attractive Human (true he had no idea the about the precise color of his eyes or hair or something trivial as that but that didn't mean Moses was blind either) but when he smiled…he wasn't going to be trite and say it was magical but it was definitely something. Moses had to remind himself to do something nice for Tosh (he didn't have access to much but even he could hunt out a mouse and offer it up to the small Human as thanks); she had helped Moses' plan without knowing, which was really the best possible circumstances he could have asked for. Moses didn't want anyone (even a Human as nice as Tosh) catching on to his plan…from his experience, plans of this nature worked less effectively the more people (or felines, but mainly Humans) tried to take part in it.

Moses' eyes snapped open when he heard a shuffle of feet head across from the main napping room of the flat, making their way unwaveringly towards him, and curled his feet under his chest, 'loafing' as his Ianto called it. He stayed still, watching the feet and their shadows when suddenly instead of feet, he was staring at his Ianto, his eyebrows arched as he stared at Moses, lying comfortably on his stomach.

"You're predictable, Moses, always with under the bed." Moses narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the smile crinkling his Ianto's face and eyes, torn between happiness that he was smiling so wonderfully and offence at being the one laughed at. He opted for indifference (the always happy medium for cats) and tilted his head down, closing his eyes, giving the appearance of sleepiness. He heard his Ianto huff a sigh that was more amused than anything but only twitched his ears in response, making it clear that he was not going to make this easy for Ianto, ensuring a highly uncomfortable upcoming fifteen minutes.

"Fine, have it your way, but you're going to the Vet." Moses tucked his back feet under his rump and curled his tail around his now supremely compact body.

As promised, the next fifteen minutes were not pleasant, for both Ianto and Moses, but eventually, his Ianto won out, closing the cage door with a quickness that impressed even Moses (he belatedly remembered that his Ianto seemed to be the primary caregiver for the huge flying Bat, who seemed very fast, and was instantly stuck by the unfairness of his futile battle). Moses scowled, tailing swishing in a restricted fashion (which really just made him want to swish harder) yowling his displeasure for all to hear. His Ianto ignored him with a poise that was rivaled by none, except maybe Persians, going about the flat, gathering up his car keys, wallet and slipping on a jacket. He gave a scolding look (which went ignored, Moses was going to keep on yowling, thank you) at a particularly mournful sounding yowl, one for which Moses felt no shame over, and picked up the cage. Moses crouched low, internally moaning at the loss of equilibrium as the cage just hung there in space. He yowled again, not heeding the series of barks and yips that were set off because of him.

**

A very disagreeable couple hours later found Moses' Ianto being unceremoniously called in, the bits and pieces that Moses could discern told him that not only was it serious, but also involved 'Torchwood' and dead bodies. Ah, Moses thought as he curled up on a couch (he had not suffered the VET in vain…his dinner had been both delicious and full of seafood goodness), 'Torchwood' the cause of destruction and mayhem, he was getting accustomed to his new life. He hadn't even been surprised, but honestly, dead bodies and suspicious circumstances? He was a cat and that just screamed 'Torchwood.' So, after a tiring day (wherein it was determined that he was PERFECTLY healthy, like there had been a doubt), his Ianto was out the door, calling out a warning to be good and not to scratch the curtains or couch (which had been recently added to the list of things not to do).

That had been several hours ago, more than several, Moses was sure, and the sun had set twice now, and Moses was not only displeased, he was starting to get worried. And, as a cat hardly ever felt worry (it just wasn't worth it, Humans would be much happier if they adopted this feline philosophy), it made him both agitated and yowl at the door even louder than probably the situation warranted. He knew that such an action was pointless and not likely to bring his Ianto home any faster, but he couldn't seem to help it. It just seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

He prowled around for another hour or so before curling up on the couch, to worried to muster up hunger or interest in anything (i.e. tearing up curtains and couches in rebellion) and hoped that whatever was going on with this 'Torchwood' was not hurting his Ianto. Or maiming…or causing illness…perhaps abduction of some kind…Torchwood seemed very flexible that way. He finally was able to settle down enough to sleep (honestly, he couldn't remember a time when he had been too worried to sleep!) and had fitful dreams until he finally heard the door to the flat open. His eyes snapped open and he meowed in excitement, chastisement, anger, and general giddiness, hopping off the couch and prancing towards the door.

His Ianto looked very tired as he shut the door, loosening the already somewhat a skewed tie from around his neck. In fact, Moses thought his Ianto looked thoroughly unkempt, which was somewhat unusual for the neat Human and had a very odd look on his face. Moses halted his meowing greeting and instead observed his Ianto with a critical eye, sharp green eyes roving over the wrinkled looking jacket, the slightly mussed hair (which looked like it had been much messier and groomed incorrectly into a respectable state) and the distinctly odd flush in the face. Then he sniffed the air.

And he _knew_.

His Ianto reeked of the Stomper, practically had an aura of it surrounding him (Moses was reminded of the way a dog urinated over territory; canines, honestly) and with the rudimentary knowledge he had of how Humans mated, he could hazard a guess as to a factor of why his Ianto had been so late. Moses was torn between feeling elated at this positive step in his plan and annoyed that the Stomper's smell was now around him without even being present. He opted to meow in a manner that clearly stated 'not-only-were-you-gone-so-long-but-it-was-for-something-frivolous-didn't-you-know-I-was-alone-here-love-me-now!' which snapped his distracted Ianto out of whatever trance he had been in. His Ianto sighed in an apologetic manner (and all was forgiven as far as Moses was concerned, but he wasn't about to let his Ianto know that yet), ran a hand through the messy hair before scooping Moses off the ground.

"I was a bit late, wasn't I? Sorry, got locked in the Hub by a dead woman who apparently planned the whole charade while being a living woman, nearly lost a teammate, and then proceeded to make perhaps the biggest mistake of my life. Fucking fantastic two days, but I'm sure you want to be fed so..." Moses sensed that whatever had happened was now suddenly not what Moses' plan was trying to achieve and decided his purring and silence would be of best help.

Ianto set him back down and strode (which was more of a stumble really) into the kitchen, fetching down a can of wonderful moist food (twice in a week…perhaps it was all right if his Ianto was late home if his guilt brought about more moist yumminess). Moses followed faithfully, half in anticipation for food and half out of support. He had a good grasp on how his Ianto went about things and knew he only had to wait a little past the mutterings and cabinet rummaging before the entire story of what had occurred the past two days came tumbling out in a half coherent jumble that was heavily laced with sarcasm (ah, an emotion cats knew all too well). And sure enough, sitting patiently on the tile while his Ianto did just what Moses predicted, after an appropriate time of cabinet rummaging, it all did come out. All sorts of things about Suzie, Gwen, a glove that was a 'right pain in the arse,' and a ridiculous proposal that involved a stopwatch (whatever that was, Moses had not a clue, but he deemed it immensely important to the story).

"'Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch,' honestly. What the fuck is wrong with me?" Moses wisely chose not to comment and happily began munching his dinner. He was still listening though, ears flicking back and forth with his Ianto's uncharacteristic fidgeting around the kitchen. "And could he have been anymore smug? Duw…that is never an attractive quality, even for him. You'd think he was sacking the House of Vestal Virgins…bloody moronic, self-absorbed twat—I wonder how he'd feel on a day with nothing but decaf…"

Moses recognized a threat tantamount to death when he heard one, but unsurprisingly he felt no pity for the Stomper. From his Ianto's ranting, it seemed like whatever mating had occurred between them had not necessarily been the most pleasant experience (now that did surprise Moses; the Stomper always seemed in heat, he'd assumed that meant he had to at least be good at mating). He finished his delicious dinner and started cleaning his face, licking a paw and using it (in the correct way to groom, may it be said) now only peripherally listening to the continued ranting, now moved on to how Gwen always seemed to get herself into trouble and the ensuing problems this caused and paranoid dead coworkers (again, Moses had more proof why it was so much easier to NOT try and understand Humans). He paused in his cleaning when he heard footsteps echo out of the kitchen, a heavy sigh that sounded much to world-weary for such a young Human, and a distinctive plop of a body hitting cushions of a couch.

Pausing only for a moment (mourning his only half-completed cleaning), Moses quickly made his way over to his Ianto, taking in the clearly troubled posture, slouched over, head resting in upturned hands, elbows resting on his knees. And his suit was still horribly wrinkled, a sure sign that all was not well. He mrowed (a different kind of meow that is both more empathic and forceful than a usual meow) and leapt up beside him, rubbing his head with a considerable amount of power against his Ianto's leg. This earned him a chuckle and a bemused look from between threaded fingers, a rueful smile spreading across his face. Moses mrowed again and settled on his belly, tail twitching against the back of the couch and his head resting on his paws near his Ianto's knee. He purred deep as his Ianto scratched behind his ears, under his chin and stroked the fur down his back.

"Sorry, you must have been lonely. Cooped up here all by yourself—it's not like I meant to though, is it, so no grudges. Although, I don't see any decimated armrests or drapery…I'm a little surprised."

Moses meowed softly, almost sounding like a kitten again; content and pleased his Ianto was no longer ranting (he was much more pleasant sans muttering and glaring). Moses let his eyes slip closed, feeling relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages (but apparently had only been two days…Moses was going to have to work on his paranoia it seemed). He knew that with the rhythmic rumbling of his purrs and the quiet atmosphere, his Ianto would talk through things (as that seemed to be his method of calming down, much like Moses' was finding a good scratching surface and having at it) more rationally.

And then Moses would know just how much the Stomper had fussed with his plan. Honestly, Humans.

**

As it turned out, the Stomper had fussed with things quite a bit, so much that even Moses was a little puzzled over how to backpedal to an acceptable level of comfort for his plan to succeed. Perhaps he was confused because he did not have the entire picture of what had happened (not being in the metal home and all, a place he sincerely hoped he would never visit again), but he knew that whatever had happened, while perhaps very satisfying on a primal level, had been disastrous on all the other levels. He spent the next two weeks trying to figure out if things were truly bad (as his Ianto was obviously mating with the Stomper, his smell lingered something awful) or if he could even do anything. Over those weeks many things happened, including something about an eye, bananas and a rather forgetful Human named Eugene…

But let's face it, that was barely even worth mentioning in comparison to the very real drama and problems going on between his Ianto and the Stomper.

**

Some three weeks after Moses had first discovered his Ianto had preempted his brilliant plan and decided to start mating with the Stomper, he had decided that not only was none of this his fault, but he was going to fix it the first opportunity he had. He felt he was going above and beyond his calling as a feline (he had noticed a few white hairs on his tail while cleaning and realized with all the power of a bite to the jugular that he had only been with Ianto for five months…it seemed incredibly longer), but he truly believed that not only was his Ianto worth it, but that maybe the Stomper was too. But only because his Ianto thought so.

TBC...


	4. Part Four

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (4/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! I'm so sorry this took so long to get out...it was a bit of everything really, but here we are! It's longer too, so enjoy!

Part Four: Wherein Moses Instigates Trouble and Proceeds to Observe that Sometimes Humans Actually Know what They are Doing

Moses stretched out to his full length on the floor, soaking in a wonderful patch of winter sun, rolling onto his back and purring his pleasure for all to hear. He knew outside the flat that it was madness, gift buying and family seeing, and probably a slew of other distracting things that always seemed to sweep up Humans around this time of the year. Yes, outside it was a crazy, hectic world, but here within his Ianto's flat, it was calm and still; truly a wonderful exchange from the 'christmas' time last year when he had been with his Estelle. He squinted one eye open and watched as his Ianto methodically got ready for a day of work, going through his checklist of things to do aloud like he always did. He refilled Moses' food bowl before heading out the door, again calling out a plea (not a demand or even a request, felines didn't adhere to those) to not destroy anymore towels with his kneading or rubbing against, out the door in another impeccably neat set of clothing that had been pressed to perfection.

Moses truly did admire his Ianto's penchant for neatness, even when he came home late at night or very early in the morning (after no doubt mating with a disputable Stomper) still able to look put together, despite the rumpled quality he exuded. Not many Humans could compare to felines when it came to cleanliness but his Ianto definitely could compete with any of them. He was rather proud of that fact.

He stayed rolled in an upside down donut shape (he wasn't entirely sure what this shape was, but it had been named by little Tosh so he decided it couldn't be bad) for an indeterminate amount of time, slipping in and out of a delightful doze. He thought he was quite entitled to a lazy day; his last few had been devoted to brainstorming and plan-revising in light of the twist that had occurred recently, where Humans tried to disastrously mess up his plans. He had watched his Ianto very carefully over the past few days (and had embarrassingly been caught at staring once, which earned him a queer look from his young Human) and had come up with a few helpful observations. Firstly, and probably most importantly, the Stomper was likely very effective at mating, something that Moses had initially doubted but then revised his opinion, judging by the increase in strange dreams (as opposed to sad ones) and the consistent lingering of the Stomper's scent. Besides, Moses was positive that his Ianto was intelligent enough to not continue with mating if it was not satisfying. This, Moses decided was a good thing, because what was the point in his plan if the mating was not enjoyable?

However, his second important observation was that while the mating was good, all other factors leading up to it and all events after it were perhaps not what his Ianto deserved. It had been some time since Moses had a partner (it just wasn't as much fun after he had been 'fixed,' but once or twice he'd been inspired by a passing Himalayan or Tabby) and he was aware of the difference between matings of Humans and felines, but he could understand this. His Ianto always came home, and the Stomper had been noticeably absent since the midnight visit weeks ago…and his Ianto's smile was not as happy as it should have been. Finding a new partner was thrilling and exciting (and since Moses was fully aware that his Ianto was not 'fixed' he knew it should be even more so) and his Ianto should be, as the Humans put it, glowing (cats did not glow, but they did preen more often). His Ianto was not.

This all led to his third important observation, that while the mating was good but lacking in all other aspects, his Ianto was feeling horribly guilty about the mating, leading to long periods of staring, self-deprecating criticism, and hair tugging. It did not take a genius to figure out where the guilt came from, and it made Moses slightly angry that his Stomper apparently did not recognize it, or if he had, why he ignored it. He had not immediately let his Ianto scratch under his chin after he had taken him home, not wanting to disrespect the affection he'd had for his Estelle, and the Stomper should have respected the affection his Ianto'd had for his Lisa. This was the most pressing and troubling of the different observations and the one Moses knew had to be corrected first. The question came to how when the Stomper hardly left the metal home…which is what was exhausting Moses (and to exhaust a cat was no small feat).

Moses had devised another brilliant plan, one that was even better than his previous plan (and no, his first plan had not failed, and had been brilliant in its own right but had been ruined by foolish Humans) and now all he had to do was wait for the opportune moment. He knew the moment might take awhile to come about (especially if the Stomper proceeded to continue to be idiotic and selfish about the whole affair) but when it happened, he was prepared. Which was why he let himself relax in the times when his Ianto was gone, why he did not pursue other enjoyable pastimes like rubbing and kneading dish towels, rodent and insect hunting, and canine taunting (it turned out that there was a Doberman across the street that could see him when he laid in the living room window, and Moses liked driving him crazy). He needed to conserve his strength so that when the moment came, nothing, and he meant NOTHING, would go wrong.

He was slipping into perhaps his sixth nap of the day (only slightly above the average number of naps) when the door opened, revealing his Ianto…and three trailing Humans who smelled…different. He rolled up to a sitting positions, yawning largely, displaying his impressive set of sharp teeth, blinking his eyes open to curiously observe the new Humans. Two females and one male, one just a kitten really with impossibly wide eyes, another around Moses' own age (and enough confidence to pretend she was a feline), and an old one with a slightly pinched expression. He wondered briefly what they were doing in the flat, following his Ianto around, and meowed curiously, ears flicking back and head tilting to the side. He caught his Ianto's attention, who smiled at him but looked terribly distracted and hassled.

"Moe, nice to see you haven't destroyed any towels today. Let me just grab my car keys and we'll be off. Of course my driving and car are needed on a day I decide to walk to work..." The last part was mumbled as his Ianto walked towards his bedroom and Moses caught an eye roll.

"Oh! Aren't you a darling!" The little Human hurried over and began petting his head, offering her hand for him to sniff first (he did not know why Humans insisted on doing this, he wasn't some canine) before she began petting him. She looked very sad and lost, so Moses purred for her, enjoying her attention anyway, letting out soft meows for her every now and then. His Ianto came out again, the jingling keys in his hand, as well as his 'nice' coat, and the little Human turned towards him. "What's his name?"

"Moses."

"Isn't he just a sweetheart?"

His Ianto smiled at him in a knowing fashion, amusing Moses to no end. "When it suits him, he can be. I found another dish towel, Moe, in the bathroom. You and I are going to have a good long chat about that later. Do you know how hard it is to do dishes with your fur getting all over everything I dry off?" The little human giggled softly, scratching his ears most pleasantly and admonishing him for being naughty in a teasing way (all right, he was naughty, but hello, feline! It was inherent with his being). His Ianto smiled softly at her, his gaze slightly pitying but more compassionate than anything else.

"You speak to your pets in this time?" The old Human snorted, his posture stiffer than the dead birds Moses used to offer up to Estelle. Moses glared and a growl rumbled deep in his chest…he did not care for this Human. The other female just kept looking around, a look of half interest and half disinterest (it was very contradicting and made him wonder if this Human really cared about much beyond her) on her face. Well, at least the kitten was pleasant.

"Well, only when they're more intelligent than people that happen to be around." His Ianto had a cold, polite smile on his face, the one that Moses saw when Ianto talked on the phone with someone from 'Unit' or when a salesman came by. It was perfect and hard to argue or get angry with, even when it concealed an insult (really, his Ianto should have been born a feline). "Besides, Moses here talks plenty; it'd be impolite to not respond."

The little Human giggled again, and even the older female smiled, finding some interest in the old one's ruffled indignation. Moses stared right at the old man and meowed, an utterly smug expression no doubt being conveyed with his entire existence at that moment.

"Shouldn't we be going?" The older female spoke…which surprised Moses. He appraised her carefully, taking in her stance, voice, and demeanor (she was trying too hard to be feline-esque, and Moses did not appreciate it all that much). She did have a nice smile though, one that was full of humor and life.

"Yes, come on then. Moe, behave, no more dish towels." The little Human laughed as his Ianto ushered everyone out of the flat, shutting the door behind him and locking it with a click. Moses stared after for a few moments before he yawned largely, settling himself on the couch instead of the floor, awake but not so much that he actually wanted to move. He figured that those strange smelling people had something to do with 'Torchwood,' (as so many strange things did, Moses had come to understand), but none seemed especially troublesome (unpleasant perhaps, but not troublesome), so no need to worry, as was normal.

Later that night, when his Ianto had returned from helping to acclimate those three Humans with 2008 (Ianto's words, not Moses, cats operated on a different calendar), he had been praised for cheering up Emma (the kitten), who was both lost and sad, just as Moses had thought. They were all lost, lost from their homes, families, and surroundings, and so much so that the _when_ of their existence had been utterly changed and adrift. Moses shuddered inwardly at imagining the hardships that these three Humans have been facing, and probably still were. As any cat will tell you, and any canine, rodent, and any other Human watchers, there was no worse a fate than being lost, cut away from all that you knew and forced to either adapt or wither away, no one there to help you (unless you were extremely lucky, and even then…it was a bleak fate for any feline). He was happy he could help the little kitten, knowing that her fate was going to be hard, knowing that Moses' own fate would have been hers if he had not taken matters into his own paws. He only hoped she did as well.

**

Moses was keeping watch (there were plenty of suspicious looking pigeons and stray cats wandering around outside the flat, and Moses had a responsibility to protect his Ianto's home) when his Ianto burst through the door one night later that week, anger etched into his face and looking quite chilled, as if he had just walked home unexpectedly with insufficient coverings. Moses did not jump off his perch at the window immediately, letting his Ianto toss his coat off and mutter angrily about stolen cars and cankerous old men. He knew when his help was appreciated and when it was not (and this was most definitely the latter), and also that if his Ianto was going to be stomping around, it was best if his tail was nowhere near. He didn't want to exacerbate the anger his Ianto was feeling by scratching him (which would have been regrettable, but Moses could not be faulted if it involved his tail being stepped on) so he stayed put, watching his Ianto and waiting.

To Moses' surprise, his Ianto did not drain of anger, instead he stripped angrily out of his suit and put on the loose coverings his Ianto preferred to sleep in, marching straight into his room and slamming the door, lights shut off in his wake. Moses stared after him, wondering what in Bast's name could have happened at 'Torchwood' today to create such a mood within his Ianto, but tried not to dwell, knowing that his Ianto would feel properly contrite for shutting him out of the room in the morning (Moses wasn't really sure why he had shut the door…it was not like there was anyone else here but them, but Humans were quite strange when upset…). Instead, he turned back to watching the streets, his sharp eyes following anything and everything that looked as if it didn't belong, driving thoughts of sleep away (felines were naturally nocturnal and Moses felt the need to remain vigilant in his watchings every now and then, indulging the 'wild' side of his soul).

And then, many hours later, Moses saw something immensely perplexing…something he had been waiting for but was surprised to see at…was it really two in the morning? Moses meowed against the window, his tail swishing excitedly as he saw the tell-tale coat flap as the figure turned to enter the apartment complex, no doubt making his way up to the flat. He debated whether he should preempt the Stomper and wake up his Ianto, but Moses decided it would be more conducive to his plan if the Stomper woke up his possibly still angry Ianto. So, he waited on his perch, as patiently as a feline could manage (which was quite a lot, mind you) and sure enough knocking started against the door. Moses glanced towards his Ianto's shut door as the knocking continued, meowing in greeting as a very tired looking Ianto stumbled out of his room and blindly switched on lights. His Ianto's sleep-clouded eyes fixed on him for a moment (no doubt confused on why Moses was still out in the flat, not in the bedroom) before blinking owlishly at the knocking (which now sounded much more like pounding…Moses thought that was more fitting the Stomper anyway) at the door.

Moses watched his Ianto unlock the door and open it, revealing a very unkempt and upset looking Stomper, something clutched in his fist, something that glinted in the soft light of the flat. His Ianto stared at him, the sleep fading quickly from his eyes and posture, moving to one side with a soft "good evening, sir," letting the Stomper stagger in. Moses watched as his Ianto steadied the Stomper and walked him over to his kitchen table, wordlessly heading to the cabinets and bringing down a pair of coffee cups (Moses thought it was much too early for this yet, but his Ianto was odd about his coffee) and started a brew. The Stomper smiled softly, offering silent thanks before he closed his eyes, rubbing at his temple with a few pale fingers. Moses did not think the Stomper looked good, not in the least, his eyes looked feverish and too bright against the pallor tone of his skin. Moses had seen and was familiar with death…it appeared the Stomper was as well.

Moses hopped off his perch and made his way towards the kitchen, nose twitching as the smell of the dark liquid hit him, taking up position beside his food bowl, looking innocuous enough and sure to fool his Ianto and the Stomper. His Ianto placed a cup on the table before the Stomper and then took a seat, still looking quite sleepy and disheveled and waited (if there was one thing his Ianto had in abundance that Moses admired, it was patience). The Stomper took a big gulp of the most probably hot drink and wordlessly handed over the object in his hand…his Ianto's keys. That would explain the disagreeable disposition, Moses pondered…he knew enough about Humans to know how important those shining bits of metal were to them. His Ianto took them, a question plain on his face, but he remained silent. Moses was practically out of his skin in curiosity though and wished that, for once, the Stomper would be talkative (and Moses was amazed he was wishing for this at all…he usually talked far too often for a feline's liking).

"John's dead."

It was spoken so quietly that Moses had to strain to hear, spoken more like an exhalation that carried all the weight of the world than an actual statement. Moses could see the surprise and shock on his Ianto's face that mingled with a kind of sympathy, one that did not understand exactly but could feel nonetheless. He wracked his brain and recalled that 'John' was the unpleasant Human from the previous day; and while Moses may not have liked him, it was still a shame that he was dead…life is life, as Moses thought (which was ironic really considering canines and mice were part of this as well, but also a common belief among felines…circle of life mentality and all that). He glanced at his food, contemplating whether now was the time to instigate any part of his plan or if it would be better if he nibbled and wandered off, leaving his Ianto and the Stomper to themselves.

Moses shook his head of such a notion; even if the Human's death was hanging over them, his plan was foolproof. He went back to pretending to eat; his ears twitched back and listening carefully as his Ianto offered and awkward condolence and let the Stomper satisfy his curiosity with the little information given. He waited as patiently as a cat could, surreptitiously glancing every now and then as a very strange story was woven about what exactly had happened to the sour John and his Ianto's car (Moses thought there were one too many holes within the Stomper's story to be entirely credible) afterwards. As exhaust fumes (whatever that was) were extremely dangerous to Humans, his Ianto would need a new car…which should have produced more anger than was shown. Moses shook his head internally; his Ianto was much to accommodating when it came to the Stomper (Moses knew that if it had been his favorite napping spot that had been ruined, there would have been unpleasant moments soon to follow).

Moses perked out of his musings when he saw his Ianto rise again, heading back towards his counters with empty mugs, glancing down at his empty water bowl and he readied himself. Moses had made sure that his water dish was in a near constant state of emptiness (it was extremely important to his plan, and he suffered the trouble of having to use his litter box much more often gladly), just in case the moment to implement his plan came. He had to wait for the precise moment, just when his Ianto was least suspecting of him doing something naughty, just when he thought he'd be safe to walk over the water…just when he would have no idea of what Moses could be capable of when not napping or hunting down cockroaches. The Stomper made some comment about how Moses was doing, but Moses did not have time to listen, his Ianto had started to walk over with a full bowl of water…and then Moses struck.

He darted playfully at carefully balanced feet (which, of course was all part of the plan, he was very serious in his mission and had no time for games) with an unusually high pitched meow, making sure to weave in and out, just to be efficient in his goal. And, as Moses had brilliantly predicted, his plan worked perfectly (like there had ever actually been a doubt…a felines dedication and ingenuity should never be questioned, period). He glanced back and watched as an amusing scene came to pass, with water being flung up and spilled all over as his Ianto lost his footing and started to go down, completely caught off guard by Moses' brutally effective attack. And, just as Moses knew would happen, The Stomper was out of his seat in a flash (the Stomper moved very quickly when properly motivated, Moses had deducted), catching himself in the downpour of spilt water (which Moses skillfully avoided), but catching his Ianto around the waist and using the counter as a balancing surface for them both.

Moses was not one to give into smugness, but right at that moment, he was entirely smug at the complete success his plan achieved.

Now, Moses was aware that if he was spotted now, that all would be lost, so he shuffled out of sight, but kept an eye to make sure the Humans didn't spoil his plan further. To his delight, they didn't. His Ianto, looking wet (from the water…there had been quite a lot of it) and slightly embarrassed and more than slightly flushed, muttered a soft thank you to the Stomper, who, after a quick survey of the body in his arms, smiled and laughed. A real gut-wrenching laugh that stamped out any melancholy in the air, one that doubled when his Ianto scowled and muttered that it wasn't that funny. That cats were devious little buggers (Moses preened at the compliment) and to stop laughing. A laugh that lowered and changed its timbre, turning downright scheming as it adjusted the way arms held what they had been protecting and slipped into a smile that chased away the dark look in the Stomper's eyes.

"You're all wet, Ianto."

"I—well, so are you…"

"So I am. What are we going to do about that?" Moses could not see exactly what was going on, but he heard his Ianto gasp and mutter out a few intelligible words. He could see the shaky inhalation that followed and the mouth that attached to his Ianto's…he took that as an excellent sign.

"We—I—oh God—"

"Now you sound like you're chattering…can't let you catch cold, can we?"

"That—that would have a negative im—impact…the Hub would get overwhelmed with pizza boxes-ah."

"Well, we should take of that then."

And then Moses heard a respectable growl escape his Ianto and the two Humans were stumbling and crashing around, making all sorts of strange noises. Moses watched after them (they made a few detours before making it to the bedroom, like the table top, the couch, the bathroom door…) deciding that male Humans mating looked like tomcats fighting, but in a more pleasant manner. He carefully escaped the wet tiles of the forgotten kitchen and settled on his favorite napping spot, not affected at all by the escalating noises echoing through the flat, basking in the success of his plan.

You see, Moses had witnessed something about the Stomper in the short intervals he had seen him, and from the mutterings of his Ianto, something that caused him to revise his original plan. The Stomper was different, different from all other Humans (smell aside, although Moses now had a reasonable explanation for that, and that made him more accepting of the Stomper in some respects) and so had to be treated differently. The arrangement between his Ianto and the Stomper left many things to be desired, Moses knew that, but he also knew what it would take to beat that sense into the Stomper. He had seen the evidence of it; in the Stomper's eyes as he saw _his_ Ianto (Moses was willing to share a little bit, just this once) slip and trip, when he held him and felt relief that he wasn't hurt after dealing with losing someone that very night, when he heard a familiar voice and humor that told him that nothing had happened, but showed that something could. And, if something could, why waste time pretending feelings don't exist when, inevitably, they always do? Feline logic proved once again how much cleverer it was against inferior Humans.

Yes, Moses' plan went perfectly, and he had no doubt that both his Ianto and the Stomper would be there the next morning, would completely forgive him for tripping them up, and would be smiling. Santa Clause, Smanta Clause…the Fat Man in Red had nothing on Moses.

**

As predicted, the Stomper was there the next morning and there was plenty of smiling and even though his Ianto scolded Moses for causing such a mess, he still scratched under his chin in a most wonderful way and gave him small scraps of cheese (a most wonderful treat that his Estelle had never given him…he now did not know how he lived without it before) and a smile. The change in both was easy to see, and even though Moses knew that the others who worked for the 'Torchwood' were facing their own problems, at least his Ianto had a small bit of peace and comfort.

The next few weeks passed in a hazy shroud of calm, Moses happily watching his Ianto and the Stomper, and occasionally his Ianto and the little Tosh (who seemed very worried about Owen, who Moses remembered as the Man in White). And it was during these hazy weeks, one particularly nice night that involved a little voyeurism on Moses part (he couldn't help it, he was curious how Humans went about mating; living with his Estelle had not provided such an opportunity…and he was surprised to see that Humans were very innovative) and then a relaxing moment with Moses resting sleepily on the windowsill. He heard his Ianto and the Stomper discussing odd and not so odd things in their own languid moment (Moses thought discussing the wayward Owen in bed was strange, but he had been less and less surprised by those things the more time went by), and then a tone shift caught his attention. He lifted his head and looked over at the Stomper, who in his distinctly debauched appearance still managed to look like the 'boss.'

"Remember that project I've been working on? The one on Flat Holm?"

"The one you forbade Suzie, Owen, and myself from discussing or researching in the Archives in a blaze of anger and coffee spewing? Yes, I think I can recall that project."

The Stomper smiled in a rueful, playful manner at the exhausted and sardonic response before he visibly steeled himself (something Moses was privy too, unlike his Ianto who had buried his head in a pillow) and tightened the brief but telling haunted look in his eyes. "That's the one. I want you to come with me tomorrow, to Flat Holm."

His Ianto pulled his head out from the pillow and stared at the Stomper, a very strange expression on his sleepy face. "You do? May I ask why?"

"I thought you wanted to do more than coffee, as superb as it is, and admin. Besides, the project would probably benefit from having two people working on it." The Stomper's reply was flippant, but Moses could detect something deeper, something that sounded like trust and a final forgiveness, which fully shocked his Ianto out of any sleepiness. "What the project is…I can't ask just anyone to help. But you, I think you'd be perfect, as much as it's not fair to ask you to help."

"Jack—of course I'll help. You know that."

"It's not pretty, Ianto, Flat Holm. It's just—it's just not."

"A lot of things aren't."

Moses watched for another few moments but then decided that whatever they were discussing was either beyond him (which he doubted, but it was possible) or didn't concern him (the more likely candidate). He slipped his eyes shut and drifted, heedless to the rustling and moans that began yet again.

**

Whatever his Ianto and the Stomper had discussed concerning the 'Flat Holm' place, had apparently been every bit as horrible as the Stomper had warned. His Ianto had walked through the door and plopped on the couch, patting for Moses to join him, which he wasted no time in doing. He had a faraway look in his eyes and distracted finger petted down his back, seeking something in the normality of petting a feline. Moses was worried, so he purred loud and arched under his hand, pulling every adorable trick he had in his arsenal in order to crack a small smile across his wonderful Ianto's face. Eventually, it worked, and Ianto gave Moses that smile, picking him up and sitting him on his knees, hands under Moses' front legs and lifting him to eye height (now normally, Moses did not condone such manhandling, but he endured it just this once).

"It was a bad day, Moses. All those people…"

Moses stared in response, purring so loud it now echoed slightly in the room (maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was certainly loud!). His Ianto set him down, so Moses could now comfortably curl up on his lap, and stroked him softly, the faraway expression back. And then, something alighted in his eyes, glancing down and meeting Moses' eyes with a contemplative look.

"How'd you like to go on a trip, Moe? I promise it won't be to the Vet."

Moses did not know how to respond so he just meowed softly, fluffy black tail swishing rhythmically in time with his heartbeat behind him. Apparently that had been enough of an agreement because the next thing he knew it was the following morning and he was crammed into the dreaded cage again, yowling his displeasure. His Ianto ignored him (as he always did, insufferable Human), but he did give Moses a sympathetic glance when the car stopped, which Moses was puzzled over. Five minutes later, it all made sense and Moses was cursing his loyalty to his Ianto, curled small in his cage as it rocked with motion that one could only associate with something as awful as a large body of water. Moses was supremely happy he had opted not to eat that second helping of breakfast that morning (although, he supposed if he had and then proceeded to vomit, he could have the vindictive pleasure of watching his Ianto clean it up).

After what seemed like an eternity (no, that was not melodramatic…it was entirely warranted), the terrible trip was finally over and even though Moses was still trapped within his cage, at least he wasn't on the water-crossing car anymore. He watched through his metal door as his Ianto traversed over rocky terrain, until he finally came upon a graveled path, still yowling, but no interspersed with heavy panting. His Ianto owed him his life for putting him through this. A large, metal door opened after asking for some identification (the word 'Torchwood' was involved…somehow, Moses wasn't surprised that Torchwood was the root cause of his suffering) and then Moses was inside, surrounded by a dark, tunnel-like home. He wondered what in Bast's name was going on…and felt a bit more curious than angry…not that he'd ever let his Ianto know that, though.

"Ianto, back again? We're still trying to stabilize Caroline, the poor thing. I'm not sure what good questioning her will do right now…"

"Oh, no I'm not here to check on Caroline…no, I brought a friend of mine who I thought might be able to help." At this, Ianto lifted the cage so Moses could peer at a kind-looking, dark-skinned Human, her eyes appraising him, also unfazed by his pitiful meowing.

"Is he behaved?"

"As much as a cat can be. He's friendly though and loves to be pet. I just—I wanted to help, thought this might do."

The woman smiled and motioned after her, walking down the dark hallways, his Ianto following after without hesitation. Moses stopped his yowling as he watched frail and broken looking Humans being led and walked around, kind Humans smiling at them encouragingly. He peered through the holes in plastic up at his clever Ianto, wondering what exactly he had planned, and even more, what it had to do with him. The dark-skinned Human stopped in front of a door and smiled softly at his Ianto, inclining her head slightly.

"This is Abby's room. She's not as bad as some of the others…I think it'd be best to start with her, don't want to startle them anymore than necessary with something new."

"Thanks, Helen."

She nodded and opened the door, stepping aside, letting his Ianto walk through before following after herself. Moses felt the cage settle on solid ground (blissfully) and then he saw his Ianto's hand at the lock of the cage. He meowed excitedly and swatted at the hand with his paw through the metal bars.

"Abby, dear, this is Ianto, one of Mr. Jack's friends. He brought someone who wants to meet you, can you come out and say hello?"

Moses tried to dart when the cage opened, but was thwarted, (Humans and their fancy thumbs…) scooped off the cold concrete and cradled against his Ianto's chest. His eyes rapidly looked around his surroundings, taking in the bright colors and colored pictures along the wall, before he was set down on a soft comforter. And then, he saw her. She was a little thing really, about half the size of his Ianto, swamped in an overly large sweater that had much too much shiny substance on it. Her eyes were wide and stared at him, practically the only thing recognizably Human from her face (or at least Moses' sampling of normal Humans…he knew he couldn't begin to think he knew what they ALL looked like). She had strange markings inked into her skin, traveling up her entire neck and wrapping around her head, hair shorn to a narrow strip down the center. She had similar markings on her hands, so much that Moses had no idea what he skin originally was, light or dark. He stared at her for a moment, appraising her in a judgeless manner before he deemed her safe enough to pet him. He meowed kindly and welcomingly, stepping close to her and sitting primly next to her.

It took more time than Moses was used to but eventually that shaking hand touched him gently, like a whisper against the tips of his fur. He purred and nudged the hand, meowed in a soothing manner when she flinched slightly, but returned her hand, slowly gaining strength in her strokes. Moses lay down next to her bundled leg (he assumed it was a leg, it was hard to tell with all the blankets) and closed his eyes, purring loudly and meowing softly in contentment when she scratched softly behind his ears.

"W-what…what's his n-name?" Her voice was raspy and harsh, but Moses had a feeling it was from disuse. He could practically feel the happiness from his Ianto at the sound of it.

"Moses, but you can call him Moe, if you like."

"Moses…like th-the Moses w-who led the Jews f-from Egypt? W-where they were prisoners?"

"That's the one. I think he likes you, he can be a picky bugger in who he lets scratch his ears sometimes."

Little Abby didn't say anything, but Moses squinted his eyes open and saw her smile. He thought that was more than any silly words could amount to say.

He stayed with Abby for a little longer before he was shuffled into the cage again and led somewhere else, someone new, someone just as sad and frightened as Abby. Moses saw, meowed for, played with and let hands pet for seven different Humans, and each time one smiled or didn't run and hide after a few minutes, his Ianto smiled that much brighter, the faraway look leave his eyes bit by bit. Moses quite enjoyed himself (what cat didn't like being fawned over?) and was exhausted by the time he was put into his cage again, sensing that they were about to leave (felines had moments of precognition, thank you). He slept for most of the journey back, something he was blissful thankful for, and when he was let out once again in the flat, he curled up and fell asleep on the couch, purring loud and contentedly for his Ianto to hear. It wasn't until later, after a dinner which he slept through (not unheard of for felines, but pretty rare still), and after hearing the tell-tale stomp that he woke up enough to be aware of his surroundings.

His Ianto let the Stomper in without question, speaking succinctly about Owen and something to do with 'weevils' and Nappers (a fiend that all of the animal kingdom despised) taking said 'weevils' for a moment before Moses saw THAT look enter the Stomper's face. Moses lifted his head heavily and blinked at the two, tail twitching sluggishly.

"Helen called me. She said that you went back to Flat Holm today, on your day off, and that you brought Moses. She said that she'd never seen some of the victims respond the way they did to that damn cat." The Stomper had a bewildered and grateful look on his face, which seemed odd to Moses, used to the confident swagger.

"When I was nine, I had pneumonia. I was in the hospital for an extended period of time and was miserable for most of it. But, there was a nurse there who had a dog, a very friendly, smart chocolate lab, and she would bring him to the hospital every Thursday and Saturday so he could visit with patients. I cheered up everyday I saw and played with that dog, and I saw others did too, others who were much worse off than I was. I figured it couldn't hurt to try and help those people the same way. I don't have a dog but…well, Moses is possibly the friendliest, smartest cat I've ever met so I thought he'd do."

The Stomper stared at Moses' Ianto for a moment, seeming to absorb the sight of him in, until he placed his mouth over his Ianto's. Moses had long ago deduced that this was the most common and possibly meaningful way that Humans exchanged their affections ( much like cats nudging their heads together, or against hands and arms to Humans), and that this particular press of lips was somehow different to them both. Moses felt a swell of pride at them both (mainly his Ianto, but he felt it for the Stomper a little too) because this time, they had done this on their own, no tripping or clever plans but their own.

Moses yawned largely and settled his head back down, breathing in deep once before he let his sleepiness reclaim him, happy that his Ianto was so clever and, for once, the Stomper could be as well.

TBC…


	5. Part Five

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (5/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! I have no excuse besides school was killing me, but now I'm almost done forever! So, enjoy this chapter!

Part Five: Examination of Mistakes, Regrets, and Apocalypses…and What Happens when They all Happen at Once 

Contrary to popular belief, Moses did not spend all of his free time napping, munching, aiding the ill Humans across the water, and conspiring (which was just a tougher version of helping really) to help Humans realize how perfectly fit they were for each other. He had many other activities to keep him occupied: taunting the humorous canine across the way, keeping an eye out for stray or suspicious looking Humans who wandered around, not to mention socializing and flirting with those he could see and interact with from his perch on the windowsill. His Ianto had come to the rather late realization that not only could he leave the window open and not fear a runaway feline, but also that even if Moses did feel the inclination to take a walk, he would always come back. Honestly, Humans were just silly sometimes; did they wander off from their homes and then never come back? No, because they knew that food and warmth would greet them when they returned (Moses had long ago stopped wondering why Humans insisted that they knew best for the felines, canines, or _vermin_ who kept them when it was clear they did not).

He was making his way back up the railings of his Ianto's building, hopping up to the middle-ish level his home was located at, just having finished his playful teasing a young Persian who thought a little too much of herself, when he felt it. It was small, something almost unnoticeable to untrained senses (which we all know Moses was NOT suffering from), and as he paused on his path, taking in the shudder beneath his paws, he noticed that Humans did not realize a thing. Typical. Moses cocked his head to the side and glanced down for a moment before he hurried back up to his waiting windowsill, all thoughts of leisurely walkings banished from his mind.

You see, Moses had been cataloging strange occurrences, like these shudders, for some time…it just seemed the prudent thing to do considering his Ianto spent a good amount of time working for that 'Torchwood' business. With all the odd going-ons that happened ever since meeting his Ianto, Moses had taken it upon himself to keep track of the unusual happenings that he had previously ignored (he admittedly had not really cared before…but that was before all the strangeness was shoved right under his sensitive nose!). So far, he had catalogued a variety of odd occurrences, from strange, random lights that sometimes flashed at different points within the city to the barbaric, Fish-Humans who sometimes roamed the streets at night. Cardiff had always been a little off, but Moses was coming to the clear realization that strange did not even begin to cover the madness that this city dealt with. Most recently, these disconcerting shudders made him edgy and somewhat snippy.

Moses hopped and balanced his way back to his open windowsill, jumping through and landing on the comfy carpet beneath him. He padded into the kitchen, nibbled a bit at his food, took a long drink of water, and trotted down to where he knew his Ianto was sitting, probably worrying over something 'Torchwood' related and the Stomper (both utterly silly topics to be worried about, Moses thought) , typing furiously through whatever administrative work he had been assigned. Moses rubbed up against his leg, meowed kindly for him and hopped up next to him on the bed, continuing his nudging until he got an annoyed look along with some pets and ear scratches (which were completely worth the annoyed look).

"Done with your walk, are you? And of course you need me to close the window…" Moses cocked his head as his Ianto got up and grumbled his way towards the open window, no doubt closing it with more force than necessary. In addition to the tremors, his Ianto had been increasingly agitated, which made him equally as snippy as Moses could be inclined to be, which further convinced Moses of the necessity of having to keep vigilant in ALL aspects of his Ianto's life. Moses thought that his Ianto was lucky he was still young (Moses could only imagine how he would've handled his many responsibilities if he had been closer to his Estelle's age) and was able to let the unwarranted irritation roll off him; otherwise they may have been several altercations already that would have resulted with Moses being shut in a bathroom during the day or his Ianto mourning the torn up sides of his couches (needless to say there would have been no victor that day).

Moses gave his Ianto a look when he came back, scowl still set in his face and tense stress etched throughout his too skinny frame (this was one thing that Moses could do nothing about, but he could meow loudly when he wanted to eat in hopes that perhaps his Ianto would as well), and was rewarded with a softer expression. His Ianto sat back down heavily and petted Moses of his own volition, quite pleasantly at that, drawing out a long, appreciative purr from Moses' belly. He was so relaxed he felt almost all of his worries about tremors filter out of his body and let his eyes slip closed; not sleeping though, because he knew his Ianto would want to talk, as he always did, and he would need to listen.

"Sorry Moe, I didn't mean to snap at you." Moses accepted his apology and nipped his Ianto's fingers gently to show his forgiveness. The hand not currently engaged in petting him pinched the bridge of his Ianto's nose, warring off a headache (or so Moses surmised…who could tell with Humans sometimes…); Moses narrowed his eyes, taking in the truly haggard picture his Ianto painted. His Ianto had been home all day and most of the previous day…a strange occurrence of itself, but the Stomper had not been present during this rare time away from the 'Torchwood' business. Moses had not asked what had happened, but whatever had happened, it was serious enough for him to be confined to his home.

But, whatever the situation may be, Moses was sure that it wasn't entirely his Ianto's fault (he knew his Ianto better than that…he had a penchant for getting into trouble and he had a bit of a temper…not that Moses had ever been on the wrong side of it, mind you).

Moses waited with finite patience, hoping his Ianto would begin talking within the timeframe his attention span could be depended upon, purring softly as his fingers continued to stroke him softly. Moses wondered idly if his Ianto was one of those 'special' Humans, if he could sense the tremors and foreboding that Moses could; maybe that was what was bothering him so much. Moses knew that the rat Canines down the hall could feel something was wrong, that the Doberman across the street could, and that the young Persian did as well…he had heard of some Humans being more in touch than others. He squinted his eyes in contentment, coming to the decision that his Ianto was not going to divulge reasons for his being home or for his agitation.

However, just as Moses began to drift, there was a pound at the door (who Moses knew was the Stomper because he was loud at _everything_ he did) and his Ianto got up with a resigned sigh. Moses blinked a few times, yawning widely before he gave his coat a quick once over, licking clean his forelegs to look presentable. He didn't really feel it necessary to look presentable for the Stomper, who was always so focused on his Ianto, but he was a feline; he had an image to uphold for his species. He rose to his feet, arched his back in a stretch, and hopped off the bed, following the footsteps his Ianto had taken and the pair of voices he heard in the front room of the flat.

"…didn't exile you, Ianto. Everyone needs days off—"

"Don't patronize, Jack; no one appreciates it."

"Well, when your employees start shooting each other, it's usually a sign that they've been working too long and could use a day off."

"Jack."

"Too soon to joke? Uh, could never figure that little social nuance. Well, if we're done with that, I can think of something a lot more fun for us to—"

"I shot him in the shoulder to try and stop him from opening the rift, the only rule you've stressed as unbreakable, not out of petty annoyance."

"Only rule? I have a whole lot more that aren't—"

"Rules that you've broken at one point or another. Moot point, and stop it. If you only came over to joke about yesterday, or fuck me, I'd rather you come back tomorrow."

Moses was fully awake and at attention, watching his Ianto calmly argue with the Stomper, whose smile slowly began to fade into a different expression, one Moses thought looked awfully like surprise and uncertainty. Moses inwardly beamed for his Ianto, surprised and proud of him for being honest in the face of the Stomper's magnetic charm (sometimes even Moses had trouble remembering why he disliked him so much…). It became very clear that part of what was bothering his Ianto was the Stomper and the shooting (not a word he was familiar with, but it sounded unpleasant) of another Human. He sat down properly and watched; prepared to intervene if necessary (he had yet to uphold his promise of scratching the Stomper and he could think of no nobler cause than defending his Ianto).

"That's not why I'm here, Ianto. Is it that hard to believe that I wanted to check on you?"

His Ianto didn't answer, but Moses could see his expression become cooler, more angry than calm. "I am not a child who needs to be checked up on, grounded for fighting, or have my hand held in comfort, contrary to what you may think. I'm fully capable of dealing with the consequences of my actions and whatever grief from Owen I've incurred on myself."

The Stomper was silent, now thoroughly off balance (which Moses found very amusing), staring at the younger Human, almost visibly contemplating what to say next or what to back track on. "I'd think it obvious that I don't think of you as a child."

Ianto was frowning now; apparently the Stomper contemplated wrong. "Really? Then what would you call this, Jack? Why am I here and not at work? You can't tell me that what Owen did hasn't done any harm."

The Stomper didn't respond (which Moses thought wasn't his wisest decision considering the situation) and adopted a slightly superior look, like that of a momma cat scolding her kitten, like one not expecting to have his decision questioned and stern that it was. His Ianto, obviously, did not approve of this and walked towards the kitchen, imparting one small, mean looking smile on his way. Moses cast a displeased glare at the Stomper and followed after his Ianto, tail raised, disdain plain on his face; sometimes Moses wondered why he even bothered with the Stomper at all, he was obviously defective in some way for him to keep making such gargantuan mistakes.

Moses glanced up at his Ianto fastidiously making coffee (he had since determined that making the disgusting liquid was both therapeutic and calming for his Ianto, no matter the hour) and sat down under the table, deciding it was best to let the two Humans deal with this in their own, albeit flawed, manner, but that he should keep an eye on them, just in case. It was a few minutes before the Stomper made his way into the kitchen, an obviously disgruntled expression on his face, but his Ianto did not pause, or even look back, He was intensely focused on the coffee, a closed off look on his face. Moses curled his tail around his feet and got comfortable, ready to see this brewing argument explode (and slightly excited about it, if truth be told).

"You know, I don't think I've ever had an employee complain about getting time off, but if you want to come back to work that badly, I expect you tomorrow morning."

"That sounds fine, sir."

Moses swished his tail, excitedly.

"Ok, that's it. What? What is it that's got you pissed off? And would you quit it with the damn coffee?"

Moses was rather surprised…it was his understanding that his Ianto's foul coffee was something like catnip to his coworkers. Perhaps his Ianto's forced indifference was more upsetting to the Stomper than he'd rather let on. But the Stomper didn't appear mad, or even peeved, but rather determinedly amused; Moses frowned internally at that. The Stomper had been put out only a moment before but now…now he seemed determined to turn the conversation around. Change it, put aside dealing with anything he didn't want to.

His Ianto slowly set down his many ingredients and tools that went into making his coffee and turned around, looking the Stomper straight in the eyes, his own eyes turbulent and electric, standing out on his otherwise composed visage. Moses' tail was swishing back and forth fast now, picking up all kinds of crumbs and dust left over on the floor.

"I hardly see the point of explaining anything to you, as you've showed you won't take it seriously." Oh! That was quite ruthless and appropriate, Moses thought (well, admired was probably more accurate a term), but it lacked any real heat, adopting an ambivalent tone that Moses knew wasn't true.

"Well, acting like a spoiled brat won't solve that, will it?" Moses glared; the Stomper really needed to reevaluate his perceptions on what was brat-like. And he had the audacity to smirk! Moses growled low, ready to defend his Ianto should the occasion arise.

"Brat? Really, sir, that's a bit pathetic for you." Moses cocked his head to the side in slight uncertainty (not confused though, to be clear); his Ianto was not pleased, yet he seemed much too close to the Stomper. Humans, they were so fickle sometimes.

"That so? Well, I could always try another." Moses did not think the Stomper truly comprehended his Ianto, in that moment, watching them. He heard the words his Ianto spoke, listened to them listened to their tone in relation to what he said, but he misunderstood completely. Moses understood the switch for what it was, understood because he knew his Ianto and knew what he was doing. A test…a test that the Stomper failed miserably. Moses twitched his ears flat against his head and felt a swell of disappointment fix in his chest; he had seen the good these two could accomplish together, he truly had but…perhaps, in this one instance, he had been mistaken in their ability to reach that goodness.

His Ianto seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because in answer to the Stomper's teasing, he sighed and gave a small smile, one that didn't reach anywhere else but his lips and was resigned. "Jack…I stand by what I said earlier, if you're looking for a consolation fuck, I really rather not tonight."

The Stomper froze, that damnable smirk finally fading from his face. "Consolation? Why would you think that you're a –"

He froze, a look of dawning realization coming to his face. Moses noted that his Ianto did nothing but stay silent, gave no show of anger (which might have been appropriate, but the Moses did not fully understand what was going on) nor of encouragement. He just stared in his frustratingly calm manner, still and almost without breath.

"…what did Tosh tell you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes! Look, whatever you know, it doesn't change—"

"You don't need to justify your actions. Neither of us made the other any promises."

"Then why are you angry?"

"I already told you. If you don't believe that I'm frustrated you made me stay home from work, I can't help you."

Moses felt his ire rise as the missing pieces in the puzzle fell in place. It seemed as if the Stomper had betrayed _his_ Ianto in some fashion (Moses suspected with another human…he always had that scoundrel-like air about him)! Moses stared as the two continued to argue in a strangely one-sided manner, hearing different words filter in and out of his head, but they were unimportant in comparison to his own thoughts. His Ianto was lying, lying about what he was angry about, and lying that he was only angry…and Moses felt horrendously guilty about the whole situation. He had, after all, pushed them together (quite literally) and though it had seemed like the best thing to do, Moses was rethinking his hypothesis.

His Ianto said no promises, but Moses could sense the undercurrent of hurt that thrummed throughout his body, barely detectable to any beyond the feline species. The Stomper had made no promises, and neither had his Ianto, but they had been expected on some guttural level; and his poor, sad Ianto had come to the unpleasant understanding that those inherent promises had held no value. Moses did not know the full reasoning to the Stomper's indiscretion, but he decided that the going-ons that had led to it were irrelevant. They did not change the hurt and mistrust that had resulted (Moses was now sure that his Ianto should be entitled to be hiss-spitting mad and stop coddling the Stomper's feelings; he was going to scratch him on his way out, a nice, deep scratch).

"Jack, just go. I'll see you in the morning."

Moses glanced back up at the finality within his Ianto's tone, noting that the young Human had finally turned back to his coffee, stepping out of the Stomper's circle.

"Ianto—"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, and that's all you want to do. Just go and tomorrow we can pretend any of this ever happened."

The Stomper hesitated, opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end he shoved his hands deep within his coat and took a step back. He had a shuttered expression on his face as he turned around and headed out of the flat. He paused at the door, looking back (Moses noted that his Ianto was still making coffee for two) once before he sighed heavily.

"What happened in 1941, I wasn't trying to hurt you." And he left, a whirl of his coat and the gentle click of the door all that was left of him. Moses crawled out from beneath the table, meowing softly (and lamenting that the Stomper's path of escape had been out of his claws' reach) up at his Ianto, who had finally stopped his coffee pretense. His Ianto glanced down at him and smiled in that sad way of his as he turned and rested his body against the counter, sagging in the shoulders a bit.

"Lesson one, Moe, about Jack Harkness," Ianto began as he picked Moses up and scratched under his chin (Moses purred despite the situation…he couldn't help it!). "He never means to hurt you, and yet he never stops to think if he will."

Moses meowed softly, in what he hoped was a consolatory manner.

"Come on. I'm expected at work in a little over six hours. Might as well pretend we're both going to get some sleep."

Moses squirmed until his Ianto dropped him, proceeding to follow him to the bedroom, hopping up on the bed and curling at the end, fluffy tail draped around his body. His Ianto collapsed and stared at the ceiling for a time, long enough that Moses rested his eyes comfortably, not quite sleeping, but not entirely awake either (it was his default position, and it had never failed him yet; he was still aware but felt nicely rested when he became active once more).

"I'm a fucking idiot." Moses glanced up but stayed silent. "Next time I'll just let Owen do whatever the bloody hell he feels like doing and hope it kills me early."

Moses listened to his Ianto's breathing eventually even out before he rose and crawled up towards his head, curling under his arm and purred long and deep; offering his own lullaby of a sort. He knew well the feelings his Ianto was having now and he knew that nothing but time could do anything to help. Loving another who did not love you was hard business.

Yes, Moses would let him sleep for now before deciding what to do.

**

As luck would have it, the next couple days robbed that chance from him. Moses had a vague memory of a strange, shadow-like blackness passing over the flat one day and then knowing nothing, but everything seemed to have been righted. Other felines and canines could remember it as well, he saw when they looked at each other, remembering the darkness that had been anything but pleasant, but the Humans did not (oblivious, per usual). Moses felt a certain affirmation in his abilities, that his instinct in those tremors turned out to be correct, but he wasn't about to brag about it. He was fairly sure he had lost one of his lives (that made him down to four…he had been a bit rambunctious in his youth) so there really hadn't been any satisfaction in being correct.

And, as luck would have it, it had been the Stomper who had reversed the darkness and saved them all. And then he had died. His Ianto had cried in a broken sort of way that first night back, not even wanting Moses near (which had more than stung Moses, if truth be told) as he emptied whatever complicated feeling he had for the Stomper out in a mixture of grief and regret. Moses had yowled for the Stomper that night, yowled for him not because he liked him all that much, but because his Ianto did and was mourning. His Ianto had mourned enough in his young life already.

But then, as fate would have it, the Stomper was alive again, thoroughly confusing Moses (who did not often admit confusion, but he considered most felines would feel that way about beings resurrecting who did not have the nine lives of felines) but elating him as he saw Ianto stop by that morning, looking for some sort of card he used to purchase food for the 'Torchwood.' He had even smiled, and for that, Moses was happy that the Stomper came back, maybe even came back for someone other than himself.

But then he left, without warning. And Moses decided that should the Stomper come back, should he try to mate with his Ianto again, he would have to go through Moses first.

Because, this time, Moses knew all about the Stomper, and he'd be ready…

TBC


	6. Part Six

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (6/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Sorry for the delay, I am now officially done with school forever, now enjoy this chapter!

Part Six: Interlude…or 3 Months wherein Moses Swore Vengeance against the Stomper

It was needless to say that Moses did not see much of his Ianto after the Dark Day (ominous, yes, but appropriate; it could not have been pleasant, even if he didn't remember it) and the Stomper's disgraceful leave-taking. Between the need for enforced loneliness and dealing with the fall-out of the Dark Day (it had been the 'Torchwood's' fault, big surprise that was), his Ianto was in and out constantly, looking quite terrible and tired. Moses did not fuss though, he understood that his Ianto had an important sort of responsibility, being a part of that "Torchwood' business and all. The metal cavern they worked in, and Moses had spent that brief moment of time (which we do not mention) within, had been horribly muddled and messed up and needed to be tidied in addition to their usual strange activities.

After a few days (and nights) of absence, his Ianto finally trudged through the door of the flat late one night with an air of permanence, looking completely haggard and dead on his feet. Moses had been napping across the top of the couch, stretched out lengthwise with his paws sticking straight out, eyes closed and purring softly. It was a nice position, but the only problem that if there was any sudden movement or noise, he was not in the best position to react. Luckily, his Ianto did not slam doors or walk around loudly (like a certain unmentionable Stomper), so Moses woke up at a sedate, calm rate, eyes blinking sleepily as they peered at his flat-mate. Moses arched up and yawned largely before hopping off, tail up in the air as his awareness came back to him. His Ianto did not falter on his path to the bedroom and Moses could hear the mattress and pillows give a resounding 'oomph' as he flopped down, suit and all.

Moses hopped up and meowed insistently (he may have had compassion for his Ianto, but damn it he wanted affection now) nudging the limp hand with his nose, licking the finger and nipping them when that got no response. He heard his Ianto groan in an exasperated manner and he saw a peek of an eye narrow at him from behind a bent up arm. Moses meowed again, supremely pleased with himself as he heard his Ianto sigh resignedly, but a hand began petting him. Moses purred deeply and arched down so that his head could be scratched by a few fingers that could barely find energy to lift off the comforter, his bum and tail high in the air (he really couldn't care if he looked ridiculous, if Humans could appreciate a good ear scratching like felines could, they'd understand the willingness to do whatever necessary to continue the scratching).

Eventually, his Ianto flipped around, blowing out air in a long, steady breath that seemed calming for him, almost as if he was readying for sleep save for his wide open eyes. Moses curled down into a loafing pose next to his Ianto's outstretched arm, content that his Ianto was once again sleeping in his bed (he could only imagine what the young Human had been doing for sleep in the metal Hub). He was ready though, ready for an out spilling of words and feelings his Ianto was undoubtedly storing inside. He squinted his green eyes halfway closed and looked at his rumpled Ianto, waiting and patient (he could be when the moment called for it…one just couldn't expect that patience all the time) for him to begin.

He knew it would take some time…abandonment was never a pleasant thing to go through or talk about.

"The coffee machine, the new one, came in today," his Ianto began. "Which, is a God-send really…Owen is bad enough when he has decent coffee; he's dreadful on Starbucks."

Moses purred in agreement (with Owen, the Man in White, being horrible, not really with the idea of coffee making him better).

His Ianto sucked in air between his teeth and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, face scrunched up as of in great pain. "But, there's still the issue of outfitting a new conference room, as the old one is a mess of glass and other various chemicals, fixing parts of Myfanwy's pen which is full of concrete, fixing the electrical wiring down in the cell rooms, and the ever popular task of dredging up the water-logged morgue…which smells as good as mildew and dead bodies can."

Moses nudged his Ianto in sympathy (because he knew that his Ianto would be stuck doing all of this…his curse of being a naturally tidy Human), inwardly cursing the other 'Torchwood' humans…well, except the Little Tosh who was quite wonderful enough to make up for her lack of tidiness.

"Not to mention that hostile aliens don't really give a shit whether or not Torchwood is understaffed and overwhelmed. And while Gwen and Owen are having a pissing contest in who is acting head, what do I get to do on my supposed day off?"

His Ianto trailed off for a moment, removing his hands from his eyes and then looking at Moses with a truly sad and tired grin. "WE get to go to Flat Holm, Moe, that's what. And then it's back to mucking about in the Hub waiting for a captain who isn't coming back for any of us."

Moses switched his cursing from the other Human Torchwood members to the Stomper; hating him for the sad eyes he caused his Ianto.

"You know, we checked surveillance, in case we could get a glimpse on what took him, and wouldn't you know, nothing took him. He _left_ all on his own, running as fast as he could for a blue Police box. For his Doctor. I recognized that box; I've seen it in countless documents and slideshows in London…no winning against that."

And, curled up under his Ianto's arm, purring softly, listening to the echoing silence that followed, a silence choked with an unbearable hurt that refused to voice itself, Moses swore vengeance against the idiotic Stomper. And, if it took another one of his lives, he was going to see that vengeance met (preferably in a painful way, but Moses wasn't going to be picky; vengeance was vengeance).

**

Fast forward to a few weeks later, complete with numerous trips across the unpleasant body of water to the sick Humans and a fair number of new cuts and bruises popping up over his Ianto's skin, Moses found it hard to even think of the Stomper without homicidal thoughts entering his head. Yes, it would be hard to _correct_ the situation should the Stomper show his mongrel face again (and Moses was fairly sure it would cost another of his Lives), and his Ianto might be most displeased, but Moses thought it would be worth it. Moses had never sired a litter of kittens, but he vaguely thought that if he had ever had such an opportunity he would have reacted in a similar manner.

Moses looked up at his very tired Ianto from the tile in the kitchen, huffing angrily to himself (and swearing continued vengeance on said Stomper for the umpteenth time) as he took in the pronounced darkness under his Ianto's eyes and the slumped stature. If there was ever a need for a visual definition of the term 'exhausted,' his Ianto could have served as the example, making Moses wince in sympathy at how much his Ianto had to be hurting. It couldn't have been easy trying to manage a relationship with an emotionally stunted Human who smelled funny, but Moses had seen his Ianto strive for it anyway, and had seen him happy for the chance. Moses could only imagine the disappointment and sadness his Ianto was feeling over what he knew the young Human viewed as his failure (even if such an idea was nonsense…if there was a failure to be had it most definitely didn't belong to his Ianto).

His Ianto sighed heavily and rested his weary forehead against his outstretched palms, arms bent at the elbow and serving as a prop to rest against, the elbows crumpling a variety of forms and papers under them. Moses sat up and meowed comfortingly, wishing that his Ianto would listen to the common sense he had so much of and just sleep (but that was too much to ask, so Moses didn't indulge such a worry when he had many others to choose from). "I know you want to be fed, Moe, but your food is fine…I'm not going to refill the bowl so you can have 'fresher' food, stubborn bugger."

Moses did not appreciate the slight against his nature (even if it was somewhat correct…the food just tasted better from the bag, not sitting in his dish for several days), but forgave his Ianto. He knew how much stress the young Human was under…he wouldn't add to it if he could help it.

There was a soft knock at the door, which startled both Moses and his Ianto, and with a weary exhale of breath, his Ianto rose and shuffled over to the door. Moses was not sure what had caused the shuffle instead of the graceful stride his Ianto usually had, but he was sure it had been large and vaguely strange (and most likely to do with that "Torchwood' business). His Ianto opened the door and Moses was much pleased to see the little Tosh come bustling through, carrying a few unpleasant things under her arm, but offering up a carton of what smelled like Indian as well (Moses had since become quite attuned to the variety of Human food that existed…his Estelle had been rather bland in what she ate in comparison to his Ianto). His Ianto helped take some of the unpleasant material (i.e. 'Torchwood' related rubbish) from the little Human and set it with the other papers on the table. Little Tosh noticed Moses without him having to meow, much to his delight, and gave him a nice scratch behind the ears and a gentle hello.

"Is this everything? I thought there'd be more…"

"Believe me, this is all we'll need. I have a tracker set up within the city's security system so that should any electrical interference pop up, the signal will automatically be scanned and analyzed, to see if it has anything to do with our little escapee Neef. If it does, I'll be able to get a lock on it and we should be able to track it down before it does too much damage to the citywide computer systems."

"Funny that something that small and fuzzy could be so destructive."

"It was rather cute, wasn't it? Like a furry little mouse."

"Chinchilla, I thought." Moses was warmed by the genuine smile that spread across his Ianto's face as the little Tosh knocked his shoulder and gave him a playful smile. It was nice to see his Ianto do something beyond pull at his hair and agonize over things he could not change.

Moses took a refreshing nap while his Ianto and the little Tosh did whatever they did to catch something they had lost (although Moses had his doubts over who actually lost the 'Neef'…whatever that was; he knew what a chinchilla was, but a Neef?). When he awoke some time later, feeling much more alert and pleasant (indeed he wasn't even cursing the Stomper, a rare feat for him nowadays), he saw that most of the food little Tosh had brought with her was devoured and the kitchen has transformed into a mess of wires and shining blue screens. He hoped off and sniffed around experimentally, not wanting to give the impression he was looking for mischief (in case little Tosh remembered the unfortunate cord chewing episode from the Time Not Mentioned).

"I think someone wants you attention," the little Tosh said. Her eyes crinkled in a smile as they flicked over Moses and then back to whatever she was typing so furiously over. And although he hadn't really been thinking about attention, now that it was mentioned, a nice pet or scratch did sound lovely.

"Doesn't he always?" His Ianto did not look up, which made Moses a little annoyed (which was usually the deciding factor for his burning determination to be annoying in retaliation), prompting his decision to hop up on the table, sit down on a pile of papers and meow in a defiant manner. Little Tosh giggled in her pleasant manner while his Ianto looked up with an arched brow and downturn quirk to his lips.

"Moses, get down." Moses decided to lie down and roll onto his back, tail swishing back and forth and creating a pleasant, rustling noise. He internally celebrated victory when he heard a resigned sigh and felt fingers stroke down his back. Little Tosh joined in soon after, scratching behind his ears, which prompted a rather loud bout of purring.

"He's very demanding, isn't he? Reminds me of—well, a variety of people I suppose; no one in specific."

"He's a cat; being demanding is as natural as breathing for him." Moses purred deeply at the smile his Ianto spared for him.

"I think he's good for you. Probably livens up the flat!"

"Livens is an understatement. The sides of my couch will never be the same."

And though Moses could see sadness in his Ianto's face, no doubt from the little Tosh's erroneous comment on who Moses reminded her of (it didn't take a scientist to figure she was referring to the Stomper…which Moses did NOT agree with, by the way), he felt his heart lighten because there was less. It was not gone completely, nor did Moses expect heartache of that sort to do so, but little Tosh had lessened it, brought a smile to his Ianto's face and brought food (which was good because Moses thought his Ianto was much too skinny for a Human). Moses closed his eyes and let them continue their 'neef-ing' business, a bit more content that his Ianto was, at least in the care of one decent Human.

**

"Owen, this isn't necessary, nor is it even wanted. I told you at the Hub I was fine and I meant it."

"Yeah, well, no offense mate, but I have a hard time believing that sentence when it's coming from your mouth. Now sit down and shut up while I figure out if you have a concussion. I didn't drive my arse all the way out after you for you to cock up now."

Moses started awake, because he knew that voice…still associated that voice with mocking, projectile green goo. He quickly fled his comfortable perch on the windowsill and darted under the couch (not out of fear, thank you, but self-preservation…the Man in White had proven himself hostile and temperamental). From under his hiding spot, Moses peeked out and saw his Ianto sat down at his kitchen table, a nasty looking bruise blooming on his temple, going up under his hair and looking mottled and quite painful. The Man in White (who wasn't wearing any white now, so Moses decided it would be confusing to keep referring to him as such), or Owen as he had been named by his Ianto, was prodding the area and shining a small light into his Ianto's face, a studious expression on his face.

"Well, your pupils are contracting per usual, but you've got light sensitivity and one ugly bruise to go with it. I'd say you're clear from the concussion, but you're going to have a knot the size of an egg tomorrow complete with a spectacular headache."

"Hm."

"Why thank you, Owen, for that thorough diagnosis; it's such a relief to know I can sleep and not risk slipping into a coma, mucking up our already fucked up team."

"I told you I was fine."

"I said you didn't have a concussion, you bloody idiot, I didn't say you were fine. A hit to the head like that…you're just lucky, _mate_, that the damn Weevil spray finally kicked in or else you'd be hamburger as well as having a headache!"

Moses crawled to the edge of under the couch, his nose peeking out as he stared at the arguing Humans (well, really Owen was the only one arguing; his Ianto was silent and staring past the Human doctor's shoulder). The doctor Human rubbed the bridge between his eyes and nose and let out a hiss of breath before looking archly at Moses' Ianto, a small trace of sympathy sneaking onto a face that wasn't accustomed to it. It was barely noticeable, so much that Moses doubted for a moment, with his superior senses, that it was there, but he found himself creeping out from his reconnaissance spot and back into the open.

"Listen, Tea-boy, you're not usually that sloppy. You should have noticed that Weevil and would have, had you not been working yourself to death. Exhausting yourself is not going to bring that bastard back, and it's only going to leave us more vulnerable. Next time, I might not be there to save your sorry hide, or the next hit you might not get up from."

"I don't need a lecture, Owen."

"No, what you need is sense beaten into your thick skull, but as you've already been hit hard enough today, I'm left doing this." Moses saw a small, honest smirk with nothing malicious within it spread across the doctor Human's face. It was strange looking, Moses thought, after seeing almost nothing but sarcasm (something felines were well-versed in) and nastiness from the Human, it was out of place to see anything resembling sympathy.

It was odd, but nice, Moses thought, and he found himself padding into the kitchen and sitting beside the table where his Ianto and Owen were. The two Human males looked at each other, neither saying anything more and neither backing down from the other's stare. It was some kind of showdown, Moses knew (although he thought it a bit silly…Humans needed to learn how to contest dominance properly…), but almost as abruptly as it had started, it ended with a small nod and smile from his Ianto and an echoing nod from the doctor Human.

"Thank you, Owen."

"Part of my job, Tea-boy. Well, nice to know we got all that sorted, now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with a Pub that's been postponed long enough." Owen rose from his seat and made his way towards the door, pausing and turning back for a brief moment. "I'd ask if you wanted to come, but as your doctor I recommend not mixing alcohol with a head bump like that. Get some sleep, _real_ sleep, and if you're in before me tomorrow, mate, I'll assign Gwen as your bed nurse."

Moses did not think such a threat was idle, so he shared a shudder with his Ianto, but he was happy at the smile still lingering on his Ianto's lips. Perhaps the doctor Human wasn't a complete prat and waste of space, as Moses had originally presumed (felines are renowned for their grudges…and throwing green slime at him for sport most certainly earned him one hell of a grudge). He purred and rubbed against his Ianto's leg, his hopes high that perhaps the Stomper's most grievous mistake and all the unneeded pain it had caused was perhaps, finally starting to ebb away.

**

Moses woke up one night and felt very disoriented. He knew that his Ianto was not there, that he was off traipsing in a range of mountains that were aptly named after felines (and Himalayans were such gorgeous felines, Moses thought) doing whatever it was he did for the 'Torchwood' business. He knew that he was in the same position he had fallen asleep in…but there was something wrong.

His dream had been very colorful, full of explosions, excitement, and portents of doom. And…it had not seemed like a dream. It had…well, Moses didn't quite know what it had been, but it was definitely NOT a dream.

His Ianto had been absent, but Moses remembered a quite bedraggled and pathetic looking Stomper (odd, because he could not remember a time when the Stomper looked unkempt…even after mating), dirty and full of sorrow. There had been some unsavory Humans surrounding him, one in particular looked a little to rat-like for Moses' tastes, and Moses had been under the couch. He had been terrified for some reason, much more so than with the Flying Creatures that had attacked his Estelle, and his eyes had met with the Stomper's, eyes that ordered Moses to stay put and not make a sound.

Moses had never been great with orders (sometimes a fatal flaw, if the odd dream was of any indication).

But…no. Moses yawned and laid his head back down, determined to not let whatever _it_ was bother him. No doubt, it had to do with the funny 'Torchwood' and had probably been quite terrible, but everything seemed put right once more. Moses was not going to waste his worry on funny Other-Times and dirty, sad Stompers (he had vengeance to think about and could not be distracted by pity) that no longer mattered.

Taking a deep breath, he fell back asleep, this time having nothing but pleasant dreams about Himalayans and catnip.

**

His Ianto returned from the fishy trip as scheduled, much to Moses' delight, and life quickly resumed to the amended normalcy that had evolved as the Stomper's absence lengthened. His Ianto flitted in and out of the flat with an increase of purpose and decrease in the 'lost-ness' occupying his demeanor (a most grievous state of affairs, Moses thought), and Moses adjusted to not seeing his Ianto for days at a time. Little Tosh, the doctor Human, and even the nosy Gwen were frequent visitors, and Moses found that despite their business with the untrustworthy 'Torchwood,' (and past errors, such as flying goo and abandonment), he liked these Humans.

Not as much as his Ianto, of course, but well enough.

So, surrounded by such positive forces, goals and affection, it was only natural that Moses' thoughts concerning the Stomper diminished until they hid in the back of his mind. He knew that wasn't the case with his Ianto, but Moses knew enough about his clever Human to know that his thoughts were no longer circling and dangerous. And, while he had always known how strong and able his Ianto was, Moses could see that others could see it as well (oblivious Humans, always missing what was right in front of their inferior noses). It was all rather encouraging, Moses thought, a fortuitous bequeath of destiny really, and he couldn't have been happier that things had turned out as they did.

Then, after three months of waiting and fighting and cursing, the Stomper returned as mysteriously as he had departed. And Moses once again remembered his vengeance. Immortal (whatever that was) or not, the Stomper was going to rue the day he hurt Moses' Ianto…he was ready.

TBC…

**

I don't usually do end notes, but I wanted to let you all know that I'll be on a cruise for the next week, so I'm not ignoring any of your reviews, I just won't be able to respond them until I get back. I'm looking forward to reading them when I get back! Next time...season 2!

Osco


	7. Part Seven

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (7/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Did not mean to take so long, so sorry, and thank you to all the well-wishers for my cruise! I had a great time! Enjoy.

Part Seven: A Meticulous Account of the Various Methods of Revenge a Feline can Enact

To explain the where and how of the Stomper's return, Moses had to reflect on the past few days, all the while staring (quite balefully, mind you) at the suddenly returned Human…who smelt all the stranger. But Moses steeled his nose; he had a mission to see through after all and wasn't about to be deterred because of an oddness that had been uncomfortably amplified. He supposed that the past few days should have been the glowing, neon fish-sign proclaiming the Stomper's return, what with all the strange rumblings and whirring that had been going on around Cardiff.

It all started, really, with a blowfish, as his Ianto put it (which was odd enough to Moses…delicious fishies did not walk on land as far as he knew), and a very fast car. Moses would say it started with the odd looking Not Human man in a untidy suit who had been wandering around outside with a very pleasant looking girl, who both reeked of the Stomper, even from up on Moses' ledge and vantage point, but he could accept his Ianto's answer as well. From the blowfish and fast car, things had seemed to progress down a very bizarre path, to the sudden (and somewhat unwelcome, Moses was sure) return of the Stomper, another strange smelling Human who was a rather inappropriate name (not Moses' words, but he trusted his Ianto's judgment, even if it was quite harsh), and a confusing mess of time that involved doing a day over (Moses was not sure what that meant, as his Ianto had not left all that long ago…and certainly not a whole day).

Moses would have been very surprised at this strange detailing of the day…but the Stomper was now present once more so that explained everything to him. That and the ever present 'Torchwood' answer. His Ianto would see that eventually and not look so frazzled about silly 'Torchwood' matters (really, Moses would have thought he'd be used to it by this point).

Moses had been napping most nicely during this entire sequence of events (and while it all seemed exciting, he was ultimately glad he had just been napping), but was being filled in on all that had happened as his Ianto rummaged through the apartment for whatever it was Humans always seemed to need but misplaced (like keys, Moses had observed). It was a little confusing, as his Ianto was describing an entire day that had apparently already happened within only an hour or so, but Moses was intelligent enough to know it involved Torchwood and that explained all. No, what had really confused and caught his attention were the rueful descriptions of how the Stomper was returned to them.

In an instant, all the thoughts of vengeance and defending his Ianto's honor came rushing back from the obscurity of his mind where they had been lulled into complacency from the normal going-ons. But no longer, Moses had thought has he shook all remaining vestiges of sleepiness off and smiled in a manner that only felines can (which was terrifying enough by itself, mind you…a smiling cat is a plotting cat). He knew that, eventually, the Stomper would be here (regardless of his Ianto's opinion of the disreputable Human and anger the cur would have incurred upon himself) and then, Moses would begin to make him rue the day he thought to fool around with his Ianto's precarious disposition!

Which brought him to now, staring at the Stomper from his perch on top the couch with all the disdain a feline can muster (which is quite a lot) towards the oblivious Human who had no fathoming of the trouble he had gotten himself into. Yes, he might know how truly upset his Ianto was with him and expect a certain amount of "dog-house" behavior (Moses had heard this turn of phrase and quite liked it…such an apt description), but he had no clue of the revenge Moses was taking upon himself to enact. His Ianto did not know (because his Ianto was so hopelessly befuddled by the Stomper he couldn't be trusted enough in his vindictiveness) that Moses had accepted this task, but he decided that some part of the young Human would agree with his mission, so that was that.

Moses' tail twitched in anticipation and he flexed his claws into the couch cushion, a rumble forming deep in his throat. He had position…now came the test of his patience.

"…didn't really think they'd use _everything_ on the damn deluxe menu. And Ianto, have I mentioned how much I've missed your coffee?"

Moses did not hear his Ianto's response, either because it was too faint (not likely, Moses prided himself on his hearing) or he had given none. Moses was inclined to believe the latter as his Ianto had a vast array of responses and insults that could all be done with a word spoken; it was quite impressive really. The Stomper, however, was not deterred and plowed along; Moses nose wrinkled in distaste.

"So, want to fill me in on what I've missed? Beyond the obvious new rebellion now growing in our own Gwen and you carrying a gun, very sexy by the way."

"She was acting leader in your absence, it's only natural she took on a tendency to having things done her own way, I wouldn't classify it as rebellion. And you were the one who insisted I have arms proficiency."

"That didn't really answer my question"

"No it didn't, sir."

"Back to 'sir' are we? Look, Ianto—"

"Jack." Moses perked up as he saw his Ianto finally wander out of the kitchen, still in his suit pants dress shirt, but the tie and vest were gone, the sleeves rolled up and he was barefoot. Moses felt a swell of pride at the sight of a completely composed and relaxed picture his Ianto made, strong and serene even when faced with a mate who had jilted him quite callously. It distracted him momentarily from his mission, but not enough to miss the Stomper inch ever closer to his imminent doom.

"You don't need to give me winding explanations that explain very little about where you were, who you were with, or what you did, nor do I expect you to give them to me. You're back and in the end that's all that really matters, as far as I'm concerned."

The Stomper was silent for a moment, but didn't move. Moses cursed inwardly. "You know who I was with." It wasn't a question.

"Not hard to figure out, sir; it's not particularly mysterious muttering about 'the right kind of Doctor' around someone who worked at Torchwood One for a stint." His Ianto gave the Stomper the smallest of smiles, and tilted his head slightly to the side. Moses was once again distracted from his mission by just how enchanting his Human could be at times, downright feline in mannerism (an always admirable quality). "Screaming 'doctor' didn't help you either."

"I suppose not." Moses pushed aside any sympathy that arose from the shadow that passed over the Stomper's face; this wasn't the time for weakness, not in the face of vengeance that needed to be dealt. "But I came back, and I meant what I said about why."

"I know."

"You don't believe me."

"Don't put words in my mouth, Jack." His Ianto paused for a moment and then continued. "And don't respond to that with 'what about something else,' either."

The Stomper opened his mouth to reply, but it slowly melted into one of those genuine smiles that Moses used to think had been a redeeming feature and he let out a soft laugh. The laugh caught his Ianto's attention (and Moses did NOT approve of the answering smile he saw there…that was why his Ianto needed Moses to enact his revenge; the young Human forgave much too easily), and while the tension, hurt, and guilt still permeated between, Moses noted that an understanding had taken up residence as well. Understanding that meant a whole lot more than words that were just words, understanding that accepted guilt, showed reservation, but ultimately said that each Human was missed in some form.

That made no difference to Moses when factored into his plan of retribution, but it was pleasant to see nonetheless.

"So…about that date?"

"I highly doubt that now you're back any of the others will give you a night off, Jack."

"Oh, I don't know, I can be pretty persuasive." Moses scowled at how the Stomper looped an arm around _his_ Ianto's (that's right, Moses wasn't sharing anymore) waist and pulled him closer. On the bright side though, the Stomper had just sealed his doom.

"So I've heard, from a number of sources as of tonight, yesterday…whenever."

Moses crouched and readied himself, tail whipping back and forth.

"I hope you're not talking about Jo—"

Alas, Moses never did hear the end of that sentence as he pounced straight for the Stomper from the top of the couch. And yes, he did get scolded quite badly and was locked in the bedroom for the duration of the night (which Moses just counted as another victory as now the Stomper's nefarious plans to mate with his Ianto were also thwarted), but the high pitched yell and bloody scratches he left behind made it all worthwhile.

And as Moses had been carried to his Ianto's room, Moses had stared at the Stomper's thunderous expression (Moses reveled in the long, angry marks that stood out against the Stomper's forearms and hands, admiring his handiwork) and thought only one thing…bring it on, Human.

**

As Moses expected, the Stomper did not go quietly into that good night after the initial attack (honestly, and he thought canines were obstinate…), but he was far from discouraged. The very next day, the Stomper appeared after what could only be called a slow day (if his Ianto's presence before nine at night was any indication), and had carelessly tossed his large, grey coat on one of his napping spots. Really, Moses thought with evil glee and a prance in his step, the Stomper just made it too easy for him.

He kneaded, rolled over, bit at buttons, and even spat up a hairball (he had a lot of fur, hairballs happened from time to time…it was the cost of having a pristinely clean coat) on the wonderfully soft fabric, hopping off the couch and coat once he figured he had done all he could. The coat was sturdy material to be sure, but Moses thought he had done fairly well. He noticed that neither the Stomper nor his Ianto were present (and the bedroom door was shut…Humans honestly, it's not like he wanted to peek on Human mating, blech), so he jumped onto another couch and laid down, deciding to nap instead of wait impatiently.

A loud and angry curse awoke him…it was like music to his superior ears.

"…-at's got it in for me!"

"Well, you did just leave it lying around. And it's nothing a little dry cleaning won't fix."

"Oh really? Well guess what your first chores tomorrow morning is?"

Moses watched with relish as his Ianto raised an eyebrow with an unamused look on his face. He stretched languorously and bared his teeth, fixing the Stomper with a lazy, but victorious expression, tail twitching slightly.

"Uh, that is, it definitely won't be dry cleaning this." Moses enjoyed the anxious, unbalanced expression on the Stomper's face…it was nice to see on such an insufferably arrogant Human (that kind of arrogance only looked good on felines, thank you).

The Stomper glared at Moses and tried to, ineffectively, clean up his coat; Moses hissed back. "Moe…leave him alone."

"That's it?! That thing ruins my coat and all he gets is a slap on the wrist?"

"Well, I could report him to authorities, I suppose, but I can't guarantee you'll get the justice you're looking for. Cat prosecution just isn't what it used to be, they're much too stealthy and furtive to get caught." Moses glared at his Ianto…he really shouldn't be teasing the Stomper, especially in such a playful manner. Perhaps if the teasing was spiteful and vindictive…

Eventually, Moses had to settle for a half victory in regards to the coat. It was a spectacular mess and work to be quite proud of, but his Ianto had soured the success (which was more infuriating than anything else…he was working to restore his Ianto's virtue and the silly Human was completely ruining it) by engaging in lewd behavior with the Stomper. Quite enthusiastically let it be added. There were quite a few loose buttons scattered around the flat for Moses to investigate (which was quite important business, hunting down stray buttons and skidding them across the floor in the kitchen), and he could see his Ianto's discarded shirt on the floor, not a button missing.

Moses scowled and decided a more subtle method would have to be adopted, one that his Ianto, no matter how much Moses cared about the foolish Human, couldn't muck up. No matter what his mating-addled brain (because Moses did not want to start thinking in terms of heart until the Stomper had paid…thoroughly) thought, that roguish Human had to pay.

And by Bast, Moses was going to make sure of it.

**

After his first attempt (he refused to view it as a failure still, because barring his Ianto's interference it would have been perfect…damn Humans, always meddling where they shouldn't), Moses had decided a change in tactics was necessary. If his Ianto was insistent on undermining Moses' plans for the despicable Stomper, he was going to have account for it. But that was all right; adaption was a feline's metaphoric middle name and Moses was no different than any of his brethren just because he loved with inept Humans.

The next time the Stomper was over (Moses was both elated and suspicious that the Stomper had taken to coming over much more often), he had stayed out of the way, scoping out his target in much the same manner as his Great brothers and sisters did in the wild. He needed to study the Stomper, study him so he could outmaneuver him, and outsmart his entirely too clever Ianto. His physical attacks had been quite good, but he hadn't accounted for how much of a spell the Stomper had over other Humans with his peculiar smell (he was befuddling his poor Ianto, the fiend). To overcome that weapon, Moses was going to have to outthink the Stomper.

To be completely honest, Moses didn't think it would be that difficult.

He started small, always positioning himself near the Stomper, but out of his immediate peripheral vision. If the Stomper was in the kitchen, Moses sat underneath and stared up until he was noticed. If the Stomper was relaxing on the couch, Moses would sit silently on the armrest, staring until the he was noticed. If the Stomper was in the bathroom, Moses waited outside the door, silent and strong in his posture and stare. This was a splendid tactic, as he startled the Stomper near constantly and had him jumpy after only a few times. Even better, his Ianto found it all terribly amusing and the Stomper did not.

From there, Moses steadily progressed to constant whining near the Stomper (normally, Moses thought such behavior was beneath him, but it was for a noble cause so Moses endured). His meows were higher pitched and longer, quite annoying as well, and they never let up. He got some queer looks from his Ianto, as he was perfectly behaved when the Stomper was not present, but they had been worth it. Perhaps his Ianto merely thought he had missed the Stomper (as if…) and was enthusiastically welcoming him back. Whatever he thought, this was even more effective than the constant presence had been, serving as tremendously annoying while still unnerving the Stomper. Moses preened internally at his own cunning.

The hovering and meowing naturally morphed into the next step…simultaneous occurrence, which was starting to grate his Ianto's nerves as well (something Moses felt no guilt over…he had spoiled the original plan in the first place). Moses thought that this was by far the most efficient tactic, as his well placed position on the back of the couch and an apt meow when the Stomper was particular amorous succeeded in two accounts. It punished the Stomper by preventing him from his roguish aims and dissuaded his Ianto from progressing any further in ill-advised pre-mating rituals.

Yes, every time Moses saw the Stomper glare at him, shy away from him, and eye twitch in a spastic movement that spoke to how mating-deprived the Stomper was (and how pathetic he was really…did he have no self control?), he purred deeply. Vengeance was coming along quite nicely.

**

Moses was jolted out of a nap (he had really fallen behind on his daily nap quota in his constant torturing of the Stomper) by two very unpleasant things. One, the front door slammed open, which Moses hated on an innate level and never failed to ruin whatever clam mood he was in. And two…the Stomper and his Ianto currently engaging in some vigorous kissing against the twice slammed front door, now shut, hands wandering haphazardly all over. Moses rolled his eyes and relaxed back down, eyes squinted open in his lazy, disinterested fashion, too tired to engage in any of his vengeance-gaining tactics at the moment; especially when the two looked too heated to be distracted. Moses picked his battles wisely.

He yawned and debated whether he should try and fall back asleep, deciding that he could still salvage a decent nap if he started now, but he couldn't. _They_ were making too much damn noise. Moses lifted his head and glared at the Stomper and his Ianto (it was sad to admit that he was equally frustrated with them both), who were steadily bumping and stumbling their way towards a more comfortable surface, leaving trails of clothing on their way. Now, normally, this behavior was not altogether odd or uncommon (as the Stomper and his Ianto had done this sort of mating for quite some time prior to the rogue's absence, when Moses had foolishly approved), but there was something different this time. Something that had Moses fully awake and staring after a gradually unclothed pair of Humans, green eyes gleaming in curiosity and ears perked up in slight confusion.

But…it wasn't his Ianto that made Moses pause.

The Stomper was dexterous and nimble as ever, skillfully distracting Moses' Ianto with nefarious techniques, but it was different, Moses could tell and he never doubted his senses (no feline ever did). There was something off, bizarre with how his hands cradled the younger Human's head, moved to stroke up and down a now bare back, seemed to actually enjoy his Ianto's enthusiasm with genuine affection, not just unabashed lust. There was something not quite right with how the Stomper paused in his ministrations and just stared at Moses' Ianto, stared at him as if trying to commit a thought or image to memory. It was, Moses thought in an amazed sort of way as he watched the two Humans finally make it to the comfort of a bed, almost as if…

Moses peeked around the door, perching himself on the opposite end of the couch so he could see the room (the door was wide open, it wasn't like he was spying or anything), and was taken aback by the Stomper's very unashamed, very blatant in regards to his feelings, kiss on his Ianto. If possible, Moses noted that his Ianto looked just as taken aback, but responded quite differently than Moses.

Moses sat back and blinked a few times, trying to process the very obvious information flying through his brain. If Moses hadn't witnessed it for himself…that kiss (everything really, if Moses thought back to the past weeks and looked through things without the veil of vengeance)…it was almost as if the Stomper, in all actuality and without any false pretense…

As if the Stomper _cared_ for his Ianto in a way that went beyond casual mating and base attraction (which was what Moses had decided had to be the only emotions before, since the Stomper had left so callously and broke his Ianto's spirit for a time). In a way that seemed to encompass the Stomper's whole being and transcended any kind of categorization or analysis. As something that could have been a primal scream of relief, grief, and a million other infinite components that couldn't be told apart from one another. Moses cocked his head to the side in a muddled type of bafflement as the Stomper promptly reversed all of the assumptions Moses had firmly believed in to characterize the odd smelling Human.

Understandably, Moses was not pleased.

Sometimes, Moses was so very frustrated by the fickle nature of Humans (acting one way one minute and a completely other way the next…it made him want to scratch every last one of them); this was one of those moments. With one last look, and a glimpse of the Stomper's hand threading through his Ianto's hair in a tender movement, he put his plans of vengeance on hold for the moment. Deciding that he didn't have nearly enough sleep to begin confronting this new development (being the so-called 'feelings' the Stomper exhibited towards Moses' Ianto), Moses turned away from what he supposed could be called a poignant moment between the two (what them making all sorts of silly looking 'eyes' at one another).

He'd deal with this in the morning.

TBC...

**


	8. Part Eight

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (8/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Enjoy.

Part Eight: Wherein Moses Discovers that Humans are not Only Fickle, but Wonderfully Complex…even Stompers

As luck would have it, Moses did not end up having to 'deal' with the problem the next day, as the Stomper had been absentia for once in a long while (internally, Moses relished in having a day off from continuous annoying behavior; even he was beginning to get annoyed with himself). Granted, his Ianto had been absent as well, which usually meant 'Torchwood' business and an undoubtedly dastardly plot to destroy all that was good and fluffy (except felines of course, who would certainly survive anything Humans did not).

Later, his Ianto had come through the door, sans Stomper, and was studiously ignoring the jingle from his little phone, stripping off his jacket and tossing it haphazardly on the floor. Moses knew then that something was horribly amiss. His Ianto almost never failed to answer that jingle, even when horribly sick, depressed, or downright unpleasant; Moses hopped off his couch and made his way over to where the young Human had collapsed on the bed, suit still on and getting more wrinkly by the minute, an arm flung across his eyes. There was a dangling hand and fingers within Moses' reach, so he rubbed against them, his tail curling extra long for good measure, a few times before he felt the fingers twitch in response.

"'Lo, Moe," was the tired, slurred response. Moses meowed in response and hopped up beside his Ianto, sniffing his breath furtively to see if the slurring had anything to do with not being tired (in Moses' experience, slurred voice meant to many funny drinks…which was always caused because of the Stomper). Alas, he smelt nothing unusual so he curled down beside his Ianto and let him pet away tiredly.

The shared a rare, quiet moment, Moses purring and his Ianto petting (these had become so very rare in the wake of Operation Vengeance and his Ianto's terrible behavior towards the Stomper), and Moses was reminded of his Estelle for a brief moment. She being such an older Human, they had many more of these moments to themselves; he felt a brief ache of nostalgia for his lost Estelle but it eased. Time passage and healing wounds and all that rubbish Humans loved to spout off seemed to have a kernel of truth to it after all.

"You know, I don't really remember there being so many apocalyptic workdays in Jack's absence. I think he attracts them." Moses purred in agreement.

They both lapsed back into silence when the phone jingled again. Moses watched his Ianto let out a very put-upon breath of air and reach for the phone with his unoccupied hand (his Ianto had long ago learned that if one hand was petting and the other not, that better be the hand that would answer his phone). He glanced at it, rolled his eyes upwards, but flipped the phone open nonetheless. Sometimes Moses thought his Ianto was much to accommodating towards others; if he had been Human, he wouldn't have answered and whoever had been calling would have done well to just accept and stop calling after that.

"Yes, Jack?" Ah, it was the Stomper…well, that certainly explained the rude persistence.

"I'm not dignifying that with a response…no, it's not a mature question."

Moses caught his Ianto's eye and was somewhat surprised to find a devilish looking smirk playing across his face. He yawned and rolled over onto his back, keeping his attention on the conversation; it promised to be interesting (perhaps he had been a bit hasty in figuring his Ianto as completely befuddled by the Stomper).

"If you like. Oh, do I? Well, sir, preventing Cardiff from being blown up on a consistent basis since your return is a bit taxing. No sir, I'm not inferring that you have anything to do with it at all." While Moses enjoyed a good teasing as much as the next feline, if his Ianto did not become more creative and cruel he was going to lose interest fast. He had to see enough of their ridiculous behavior when the Stomper was here (which sounded like was soon to come, if the phone conversation was an indication), he wasn't going to waste his precious attention for nothing out of the ordinary, thank you.

Moses was spared having to decide as the phone was closed after a rather detached "goodnight sir," his Ianto tossing it to the end of the bed before flopping back down. Moses was all for relaxing, but he almost wished his Ianto would at least change, he was messing his neat suit up ever so badly (felines have an innate urge to be clean at all times, even during sleep). His Ianto let out a soft chuckle, half amused and half something else, not sad but perhaps resigned was the perfect description. His fingers (which had inexplicably stopped petting, a crime Moses had belatedly noticed and was trying hard to not get offended over), resumed their scratching and petting.

"I teased him something awful today, Moe. The world was sinking towards disaster and there was a distinct possibility of nuclear explosion and I was making jokes about his 'bedside manner'…"

Moses had a feeling the 'bedside manner' was somehow a reference to mating, but he couldn't be sure; it was hard to keep up with Human euphemisms for sex. Embarrassment and a kind of bafflement was injected into his Ianto's voice, suggesting that perhaps talk of the Stomper's mating habits was a taboo topic (which Moses had a hard time buying to be honest). His Ianto made a somewhat disgruntled noise that was caught between a laugh and a sigh, his fingers halting in their pleasant scratching.

"Although, the look on Gwen's face alone was worth it…"

Moses yawned widely as his Ianto trailed off. Another day, another almost-apocalypse.

**

"…I don't mind a bit of messiness, Ianto. Do you want me to drop the food on the counter?"

"Sure, Tosh." Moses lifted his head up from the couch, yawning before he perked up considerably. Little Tosh was here, quite possibly one of Moses' favorite Humans (apart from his Ianto of course, but no other Human could really compare to a feline's own, could they?), and she was bearing food. And whenever she brought food, she invariably brought something tasty for Moses as well. He meowed pleasantly and hopped off the couch, rubbing against her leg in greeting, purring loudly. She laughed and bent down to tickle him under his chin, all the while his Ianto gave him a knowing look.

"I swear that cat likes you more than me, Tosh."

"Oh, I don't think so. He's just clever and as figured out that his Auntie Tosh likes to spoil him rotten."

She smiled kindly at his Ianto before she went about unpacking packages of delicious smelling food. Moses loved when they got Indian food…he could smell the shrimp from here. Sure enough, Tosh opened a little box and gave him a few shrimp pieces, which he ate quite happily. He munched as did his Ianto and little Tosh, who had both migrated towards the couch, eating their meal while half watching some documentary on the television, talking quietly about the subject, the ever interesting 'Torchwood,' or their families.

Tosh was usually over a few times a week, but she had been absent for the last few days…and now that Moses had finished his shrimp and was no longer distracted (who honestly expected him to pay attention when there was seafood around, really?) little Tosh seemed a bit melancholy. Moses hated it when she was sad, mainly because she wore that expression much too often and he did not like it when kind Humans were sad. There were too few kind ones as it was, Moses thought; kind people who were always sad just created more bitter Humans. He stretched and hopped up in between the two Humans, curling up at their feet, ignoring his Ianto's half-hearted attempts to shove him off.

"If you want to ask how I'm doing, I promise not to snap at you, Ianto." Tosh's voice was soft and seemingly light, but Moses (and no doubt his Ianto as well) knew better.

"If you don't want to talk about Tommy, I'm certainly not going to make you. I'm not Gwen." His Ianto smiled a bit wickedly at little Tosh, who giggled before trying to control the impulse, struggling to look sheepish. Moses inwardly snickered at the comment as well (he was not the biggest fan of the Human meddler…), but was much more intrigued at the mention of this 'Tommy.'

Tosh was quiet for moment before she spoke again. "I don't mind talking about him. I just—I don't know how to explain it, or him, to anyone. I knew, _knew_, that it wouldn't work, I mean, he was from 1918 for Pete's sake, we just…oh, this is impossible to explain. I knew he'd have to be sent back and but it didn't matter to me. He was wonderful…and I miss him. But most of all I wished he could've known how brave he was…"

Moses looked up and saw tears in little Tosh's eyes and felt a swell of protectiveness wash over him. He purred deeply and nudged his head against her bent leg, nodding in approval when his Ianto flashed him a pleased look and took Tosh's hand in his own. His Ianto was clever and empathic enough that just his presence was enough (words were terribly overrated… foolish Humans for thinking it made them so superior), so no words or sounds, apart from Moses' purring and the occasional sniffling, were heard for a length. There was something soothing for little Tosh in the silence, for Moses was pleased to notice that her smile, though a bit watery, was much more sincere.

His Ianto smiled and let go of her hand. "Whether he knew it or not doesn't really matter. He saved the world, and he has people who remember and admire him for it, right?"

"Right."

"Then that should be enough. He was a good man."

Tosh giggled for a moment, her face slightly red, eyes holding a tint of sadness still, but it was a different sort of sadness, Moses thought. Humans were funny that way. "He was, wasn't he?"

They both went back to watching the documentary for a moment before little Tosh got a curious look in her dark eyes. She popped a piece of shrimp into her mouth, ignoring Moses' perked up attention (which was rude, if you asked him), focused on his Ianto, though she was pretending she wasn't. And failing miserably (Humans, no subtlety). Predictably, his Ianto noticed, catching her eye and giving her a small smirk.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing! I just—well…this whole time I didn't think anyone would really be able to understand about Tommy and everything, about him being from a different time and what that meant between us but...I was wrong, wasn't I? I mean _you_ understand, you know."

"Know?" Moses felt like coughing up a furball. Must every conversation had with his Ianto somehow loop back to the Stomper and their ill-advised affair (to be honest, Moses thought it was more than just ill advised, but he was trying to be fair)?

"You know, Ianto, _know._"

"I'm afraid I don't have any idea what you're referring to."

Little Tosh ruffled and scoffed, arching her eyebrow at Ianto's impassive face, which was intently focused on the television. ""Yeah, and I'm a dancing hippopotamus."

"Listen, Tosh, I don't understand." His Ianto set down his carton of rejected food scraps and looked straight at her. "I really don't. Whatever you, or Owen or even Gwen, think I have with Jack is mistaken. There's probably a good deal you're all right about, but this isn't one of them."

Tosh was quiet for moment, but Moses knew it wouldn't last long (the other Human companions of the Stomper hadn't quite cottoned on about his despicable nature). "I don't think that's true."

"Tosh—"

"No! You listen to me, Ianto Jones, I'm not stupid, and Jack is not nearly as clever with the vid-cams as he likes to think he is. I heard and saw you two, Tommy's last night here…he wasn't looking at anyone else when he said those words. I think you do understand, but wish you didn't. Lord knows I wish I didn't…at least, a part of my wishes that."

Moses sat up and stared at both Humans. What was little Tosh talking about? Words that the Stomper had said to his Ianto, words that, by the look on both faces, were important ones (ones that Moses had perhaps a bit hastily written off as beyond the Stomper's capacity or emotional understanding because let's be frank, Moses was positive the Stomper was clearly dysfunctional). He blinked and settled into deep thought while little Tosh's fingers stroked his back. He thought back to the Stomper's previous visits since his impromptu return (the times that Moses paid attention at any rate…sometimes Humans were just plain dull)…there had been differences. They were small and Moses had not really wanted to admit them because he had vengeance that demanded to be enacted (a feline fault at times, even he admits)…but perhaps they had been all his Ianto had wanted. Perhaps they were enough.

Moses rolled his eyes and settled back against the couch as his Ianto spared little Tosh one of those rare grins and asked if she wanted ice cream. Of course, little Tosh answered yes (what rational creature ever said no to ice cream…it was a higher form of milk frozen with flavor). Maybe Moses should just let things progress as nature intended…perhaps his game of vengeance had done enough. Still, didn't mean he had to cuddle up next to the Stomper…he still had a bite coming towards him.

**

A few weeks later, Moses thought that little Tosh had been utterly and horribly mistaken.

He was currently watching his Ianto and the Stomper from a hiding spot behind the couch, ready to defend his Ianto if needs be but…his Ianto was doing quite fine. All Moses really knew about what had led to this moment was someone called Rhys, a space whale (Moses decided to not question the illogical feelings that invoked), a gun and, of course, the Human Gwen.

And, per usual, it was entirely the Stomper's fault (as if that should be a surprise by now, Moses thought acidly).

"—well maybe if you actually told me what the hell is making you mad I wouldn't 'flounder like a beached fish,' Ianto! I get it that Rhys shouldn't know about—"

"This has nothing to do with Rhys. I don't give a fuck if he remembers everything about you, Torchwood, and tells fifty of his friends."

"Then what?"

"At the risk of sounding a tad cliché, if you have to ask then maybe you should think a bit harder. You really can't think of anything, _anything_ that would make me less than pleased with you? Nothing? Well, how about I give you a few reasons. First off, you've completely lost your composure not once, but twice today, all over the same reason, I had a gun aimed at my head and fired, fired Jack, and had the shit kicked out of my promptly before and you have my chase down the same man because Gwen is too much of a mess to do anything—"

"Rhys had been shot! What good could you expect her to be?"

And Moses knew promptly then that the Stomper had made a horrible mistake. His Ianto's face went ice cold and he took a step back. The Stomper looked equally angry and tried to reach out and grab his Ianto…only to receive a very upset punch in the face.

"Only as good as you, but apparently, it was too much to ask."

"Ianto? What the fu—?"

"Not of her…of you."

And then, as if someone had finally switched a light on in the Stomper's head, a horrified realization crossed his face. Moses noted with some vindictive pleasure that he had never quite seen that kind of lost and sad look on the Stomper's face. The Stomper opened his mouth but Ianto shook his head a fraction, that cold fire burning in his eyes.

"No, you're going to listen for once until I'm done. I have never once asked you for anything, I've never expected anything from you or this or what you choose to do when not with me. Even when you knew how I felt, I didn't ask because that's not how this works. And when you left, it was fine, not good, but fine because you never promised and I never asked. But then you came back and have all sorts of notions about what you want with me, things that I had thought were beyond what I had a right to ask for. And wouldn't you know it, I believed them, I believed that whatever happened while you were gone had somehow reorganized your thoughts on 'quaint' little 21st century relationship norms and you actually wanted what I did."

Moses noted with a little trepidation that his Ianto was shaking ever so slightly. The Stomper noticed this as well and lifted his hand up, as if to try and offer comfort, try and quell the shaking, but his Ianto's flinch back made it drop back.

"But hear this, Jack Harkness, I will not ever be your replacement fuck. Someone you'll take because who you want is too preoccupied with having stability to indulge you."

"You're not a replacement fuck, Ianto! I do ca--!"

"Are you sure? Because, I'm not too convinced that's true. You see, Gwen cares about Rhys. She has fucked Owen, led on countless others, and the two of you keep eye fucking with one another…and still, through all of that which would suggest to anyone rational that she doesn't really love Rhys, she still completely loses her head over him when he gets shot.

"…and then, do you want to know the worst part of this whole thing, Jack? It's not that you didn't even seem to comprehend that should that gun have been loaded, I would not be arguing with you right now, or that you didn't offer anything after, anything to reassure me that I was not dead this time…but that you stared after her with the same look I've been staring at you…and you still didn't know anything. That I had been home for hours here before you realized I wasn't around for you to fuck. So, that's why I asked for you to leave me alone for a few days, that's why I can barely look at you right now without wanting to kick the bloody shit out of you…

"…that's why I hate you so much at times."

Moses heard the unspoken 'because I love you and when I finally thought it mattered to you, it's still not what you want.' And he knew the Stomper heard it too.

"…so, if you want to go back to what we were before you left, fine, but I will not continue _this_ and know that while you want this, it's only second best with me."

His Ianto was strong and resolute throughout his entire ultimatum, his voice quiet and at times barely above a whisper, but steady and full of conviction. Moses had never felt prouder of him, never felt like this was the Ianto he knew had existed before all the pain of his Lisa and his confusion over the Stomper and his guilt. And he was finally confident enough in his own strength and not what others had thought of him to voice it. Moses thought he had never looked more beautiful, even with the pale skin and compressed lips.

And then, to possibly everyone's surprise, the Stomper pushed forward and all but crushed his Ianto against him, not budging an inch even when his Ianto's surprise wore off and he tried to push away. Moses knew his Ianto could not see what was happening on the Stomper's face, but Moses could…he could see the honest tears shimmering and the chagrined expression, an expression that showed Moses how stupid the Stomper had realized himself to be, how wrong he had been in his many transgressions, how lucky he truly was to have someone strong enough to point out his faults even though it revealed his own secrets. Moses spotted the honest part of the Stomper's soul again…and it was just as damaged as his Ianto's.

"Ianto…I am so very sorry you ever had cause to doubt this, doubt me…if you knew—if you really knew what I—"

He apparently couldn't finish in words (which Moses thought at this point was acceptable…words were only good for so much after all). He pressed his lips against his Ianto's, hard, as if trying to impart some silent, wordless thought, feeling…and he broke it as abruptly as he began, leaving a glass-eyed, confused expression on his Ianto's face.

"You are not, and will never be, second best, do you understand? I never wanted…you have no idea what my…I have only loved five times since I've been alive and you…I do love you, Ianto, I think it might scare you if you knew how much and what that means for you—"

"Show me."

As if actually speaking the words, showing that Ianto had not been wrong in failing in not falling for the Stomper, were a balm, they came together in a flurry of movement and motion that was only half about physical gratification. Moses may have been young, but felines had an innate understanding of how complex love could be, how painful it could be as empowering, as confusing as clear. A wonderfully horrible collection of oxymorons. He watched the Stomper show what his love was like, how it was violent, possessive and promised no escape but so very careful. He purred as his Ianto accepted it all with that brilliant grace of his, and showing the Stomper that his love was not that different.

And after, Moses curled up on the end of the bed and listened to the Stomper tell his Ianto everything that had happened when he had been missing. In turn, his Ianto told the Stomper everything he had felt and went through since his Lisa had left. Honesty, such a marvelous concept, Moses thought.

And in the morning, Moses resolved that he would let the Stomper pet him if he wanted, but not too much. Had to keep up appearances after all. He curled up and fell asleep to their voices, content in the small measure of understanding and peace that had been gained. At least, until the next 'Torchwood' disaster stuck, Moses thought ruefully.

TBC…


	9. Part Nine

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (9/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Enjoy.

Part Nine: Wherein There are Nightmares, Zombies, and a Wonderful Human called Martha

Moses had come to the conclusion that whatever 'peace' that seemed to be achieved in his Ianto's corner of the world was destined to not last long, due in a large part to the 'Torchwood' business and the Stomper. Even if Moses was somewhat more accepting of the Stomper of late (not that the Stomper was aware of this, as Moses was still prone to nip and hiss at the funny smelling Human should the chance arise), he knew with every inch of his feline intuition that the Stomper was a large part of the troubles in his Ianto's life. Such as the current problem that had arisen over the past few nights, after his very confused looking Ianto and the Stomper had walked into the flat, claiming to not have memory of the past two days. However, both knew that they themselves had somehow forced themselves to forget the days (which Moses found quite queer but he had long stopped questioning the habits of Humans), but seemed puzzled as to why.

Frankly, Moses didn't know why they were prying into their own decision to forget, as it had obviously been imperative that they did so in the first place; it seemed counter-productive to question and look into the 'whys and whats' afterward.

They had both furrowed their thoughts over their dilemma for most of the night, which Moses had accepted as a strange part of the Stomper's courtship ritual in light of his Ianto's very clear expectations, but had eventually given up and decided it was probably best they didn't know (honestly, if Humans had a fraction of a feline's common sense they would have come to this conclusion long ago). Moses had opted to sleep on the couch for most of night, as the Stomper's (and admittedly his Ianto's as well) insatiable mating habits once more become a normal occurrence in the flat, and did not return to sleeping until the Stomper had been absent for a day or so.

That was when they started. Well, at least that was when Moses started to become concerned. You see he had noticed, in the odd moments that his Ianto was home sans the Stomper, brief spells where his Ianto looked at his hands in mild alarm, as if a phantom thought or memory kept teasing his mind. As if he was expecting them to do something horrible (a truly puzzling thought as those hands were quite talented scratchers and opened up cans of food, thus quite appreciated by Moses). However, the spells were brief and fleeting and just as soon as they came upon his Ianto, they were gone, replaced with a smile and a shake of his head, so Moses did not overly concern himself with them.

It wasn't until the night terrors started up that he took concern to it.

Now, Moses was no stranger to his Ianto having nightmares, as it had pretty much been standard since his first nights with him since the metal 'Hub' space that was not mentioned, and while they had abated, they had not disappear. He understood that his Ianto had a good deal of baggage that most Humans did not and that while he was well adjusted for a Human who had gone through so much sadness, these terrors were unfortunately just a part of his life, something he could handle but would never truly go away. So it wasn't quite the nightmares themselves, but rather how they left his Ianto afterward. His Ianto had never started awake and then retch violently for hours, coming back and staring blankly until dawn came and seemed to snap his Ianto out of it.

And the muttering…Moses was not sure of what was said but it contorted his Ianto's normally affable and attractive face into something ugly and decidedly NOT his Ianto.

However, what was most disconcerting to Moses was that his Ianto seemed unaware during these more troubling moments, as if his mind was elsewhere, which only served to create more confusion, frustration, and sleeplessness throughout the day (and no Human was ever pleasant in those circumstances). Moses knew that the forgotten time was responsible for whatever was wrong with his Ianto's dreams, but it wasn't as if he was able to confront his Ianto about said problems (which was really what was required…his Ianto was notoriously stubborn about such silly things like asking for help). Because the time in question had happened away from the flat, Moses had no knowledge of the driving forces behind the Humans' decision to erase those days. That also meant that the other Humans would probably not be of much help either, since they were probably either also having nightmares or couldn't remember (which rendered them useless in Moses' opinion and plans).

Which basically left him with the Stomper, as Moses was positive he was too strange to have been affected the same as his Ianto. A sad day indeed, in Moses' world, when he had no one but the uncouth Human to turn to.

His plan was simple; since the Stomper had proven on more than one occasion his inability to comprehend feline mannerisms (a huge failing to be sure), Moses had to appeal to Human senses and rationalities and hope the Stomper's own intellect could rise to the occasion and figure out something was wrong with, who he thought, was his Ianto. Moses did not allow himself to give into despair at the thought that all depended on the Stomper's intelligence. After attention was garnered, Moses only had to sit back and hope his silly Human and the Stomper were strong enough to counter whatever nightmares their memories housed.

The Stomper appeared at the flat within the week and inwardly Moses rejoiced (something he would not speak of later…desperate times, desperate measures and all that riff-raff), nearly prancing from his napping spot in the living room to the kitchen. He ignored the swaggering smile and generally cocky aura surrounding the Stomper as he sexually molested Moses' Ianto (note the possessiveness, a feline trait…and sometimes a fault Moses could admit). He glanced between the two, noting the dark circle under his Ianto's eyes, but how otherwise looked quite healthy. He had to get the Stomper alone…he had to be patient.

"—with tentacles! All I can say is, never again will I eat out with a Solarian and let her order for me…speaking of forceful, witty women, you get my memo about our guest coming at the end of the week?"

"If by memo you mean the small, crumpled, sad excuse for a post-it note you attached to my computer screen which promptly fell off and nearly got buried under the mountain of files you plopped on my desk to archive then yes, I got your memo. Luckily for your less than stellar methods of keeping staff informed, I had already been notified by UNIT; everything is set."

"You know I love it when you're all organized."

"Careful, sir, I'll think that your office fetish is all you're after."

"Well, that among other things…"

Moses saw his opening and attacked. He pounced on the Stomper's shoes and bit like his life depended on it, sinking his claws in and holding on with a death-like grip. As predicted, the Stomper was not pleased and after a startled yell, he looked towards his amused Ianto and silently demanded some sort of retribution. "I don't know what you expect me to do; he won't listen to me even if I told him to stop. Shut him in the bedroom if you like."

"I swear, that cat has it out for me."

"Probably."

The Stomper scowled (which was awfully close to a childish pout from Moses' perspective), and somewhat roughly scooped Moses up, carrying him away from the kitchen and towards the bedroom, grumbling under his breath the whole way. Moses squirmed enough to not let the Stomper catch on that he was being had but was overall pleased with the initial results. But now, now came the hard part; Moses steeled himself as he was dropped unceremoniously onto the bed, looking up into the Stomper's reasonably attractive face (Moses may not like it, but he admitted attractiveness when he saw it and the Stomper was appealing), ears flicking back on his head while his tail twitched at his side. He meowed, a deep, soulful meow that implored, nearly begged (Moses wasn't THAT desperate) the Stomper to stop and try to listen.

He preened internally when the Stomper stopped mid-step and turned back, looking at Moses with an oddly baffled look on his face, torn between utter bewilderment and slight amusement. No doubt the sight of Moses willing trying to engage him confused him. Moses stepped forward and meowed again, a bit lighter but equally as loud, sitting at the edge of the bed, still looking up at the Stomper's face. The Human looked behind him, a last ditch effort in deciding whether or not Moses was addressing him (honestly, Humans) before he leaned down, hands on his knees, head cocked to the side. "Yes? You want something?"

Moses batted at the Stomper's dangling coat and meowed again.

"Ah yes, I thought we'd hit this snag. For as many places I've been, there is not another life form I've come across with your speech pattern. You're species are decidedly unique…which I suppose wouldn't surprise you, would it? Cats are so insufferably arrogant."

Moses thought it was quite ironic for the Stomper to be criticizing him for being too arrogant.

He narrowed his eyes and grumbled a growl before he voiced his annoyance. The Stomper had the audacity to laugh…it was decided, Moses would never turn to the Stomper for aid again, no matter the severity. However, he was already paw deep in his mission, he wasn't about to back out in the middle of it now. He meowed once again, this time with a hint of a growl to indicate the urgency of the situation and that it was important the Stomper at least attempt to communicate with him. He held the Stomper's stare, unflinching and unwavering in the manner only a feline could possess, and finally, something seemed to click within the Stomper's head.

"You're trying to say you need me for something, right?" Moses was pleased that the Stomper did not find it odd that he was speaking to a feline in the same terms he would speak to a Human (but then again, the Stomper had proven himself abnormal already…at least now it served a purpose).

Moses meowed in agreement.

"And, I'm guessing it probably concerns something related to you as I can't see alien beaming down warning or impending doom to you—"

Moses growled a no.

"—considering I'm not your favorite person, am I? Oh…well, I'll take that as a no. Does the apartment have a gas leak? I heard a rumor about pets being able to detect household and natural disasters from someone before…"

Moses glared at the Stomper and growled again.

"No leaks? Well that's good…being exploded is not my favorite way to go, after trial and error. Hm, perhaps something is wrong with your owner?"

Moses ignored the 'owner' comment (Humans did NOT own felines) and meowed excitedly, near giddy the Stomper had finally grasped the correct answer.

"Ianto?" Moses was pleased at the flicker of worry and concern in the Stomper's face. "I guess you would know that better than most, wouldn't you?" The Stomper adopted a pensive expression as he scanned through what had to be a mental list of what could be wrong. He frowned and nodded his head, coming to his conclusion. "Nightmares, right?"

Moses meowed and purred in agreement. The Stomper smirked and patted Moses on the head, scratching his ears briefly (which Moses grudgingly admitted he enjoyed) before flashing his usual, confident grin. He spun and left Moses on the bed, letting out a loud, rambunctious laugh when his Ianto asked if he and Moses were plotting something (because his Ianto had excellent instincts, Moses thought with a swell of pride). Moses, feeling his mission accomplished and successful curled up on the end of the bed and closed his eyes, knowing that the Stomper would do what he needed to do.

And later, Moses blinked his eyes open sleepily for a moment and watched as his Ianto talked quietly with the Stomper, eyes far away and confused, the Stomper holding him close and listening, murmuring as much encouragement and belief as needed. He yawned and closed his eyes once more, calmly pleased that all was back on its way to being well.

**

Moses' introduction with the lovely, dark-skinned Human called Martha began on a normal enough morning. He had been sitting in the window, watching the neighborhood dogs and Humans with hawk-like intensity (yes, he knew he had compared his observation with that of a bird's, but the raptors were much more respectable than the silly pigeons on the roof) and the door had opened, surprising him since his Ianto had left the previous morning and had made sure the food and water dishes were more than full. Overfilled food and water dishes was indicative of his Ianto being away from the flat for a few days, as Moses discovered after a few weeks of living in the flat (and a very bad stomachache that had resulted in a very bad surprise for his Ianto when he returned and found several of his rugs ruined). Yet, here he was, smiling and ushering in a very lovely looking Human who smiled naturally and had dark eyes that were full of humor.

Moses liked her instantly.

"So, this is your flat? It's nice! I thought maybe there'd be more antique-looking furniture…or a bit less clutter. Not that this bad or anything, I love it…I was worried you'd be a bit too neat."

"Well, sadly, all of my neat skills are focused on the Hub."

"Oh! Is this your cat?"

"That would be Moses…I sort of inherited him. Moe, play nice."

Moses spared his Ianto a superior look before he sauntered toward the lovely Human, purring deep and rubbing against her legs, his fluffy tail curling with him. She laughed in delight and crouched down to pet him, using both hands to both stroke down his back and scratch under his chin. "I think he likes me."

"I think he's a clever bastard," his Ianto replied. Moses purred deep in response and nudged the hand petting him. "Don't be fooled by that docile act, Martha, I assure you he's every bit as troublesome as Jack says, right down to the world domination plots." Moses purred in amusement at the wry tone of his Ianto's voice. The Stomper was awful dramatic.

"I don't think that's possible. The way he talks about him, you think this cat could single handedly destroy the world!"

His Ianto quirked a grin, but didn't disagree, which made the Human, Martha, role her eyes and coo to Moses how she knew it wasn't true and that he was too handsome to be a dastardly mastermind. Moses enjoyed her attentions for another couple minutes before his Ianto let out that he had found his keys (Moses was beginning to think that Humans were incapable of keeping track of their 'keys') and she, albeit reluctantly, stepped away from him. She frowned and waved good bye to Moses before twirling on her foot and facing his Ianto.

"Just think of how cute Moses would look in a UNIT cap." She grinned devilishly and Moses purred again at the slight red tint that colored his Ianto's face.

"I should've known you'd be a cat-person." He grumbled some more with a reluctant smile as she laughed and followed him out the door. Moses arched his back and went back to his windowsill, quite happy he had not been napping that morning.

**

Not long after the wonderful Martha had been introduced, his Ianto stumbled through the door once more…but this time his suit was rumpled, his face was strained and his eyes were haunted. Moses (who had been secretly playing with one of his many toys because he was a full grown cat and wasn't about to indulge his kittenish behavior where just anyone could see him) was immediately concerned. His Ianto tossed his things haphazardly on the floor and began rummaging through drawers at his desk, his hands shaking and his breathing labored. Moses, at first, feared that his Ianto was injured in some way, but after a careful inspection he determined he wasn't…there wasn't so much as a scratch on him.

Moses meowed in concern beside his Ianto, deeply worried about the young Human, adopting a submissive position, ears flicked back and eyes wide (felines were cursed, as most other on-Humans were, to sense their Humans' distress…). His Ianto paused his ragged searching and slowly turned dangerously wet eyes to Moses, a small, tragic smile spreading across his face. He reached for Moses with one hand and Moses met it with his head with an almost desperate nudge, hating that his Ianto was hurting and he did not know why. He purred deeply, hoping that his own vocalization of affection would cheer his Ianto somewhat.

"Hello Moe." His Ianto's voice was rough and suspiciously uneven. Moses rubbed his head against the listless hand even more. "Sorry but I can't really…I have to find Owen's contact information. See if he had any—any family who need to know that…"

His Ianto trailed off and resumed his messy searching. Moses backed off, recognizing that this was what was needed right now, that he needed to be near and here for his Ianto but that he had to let his Ianto do what he needed to do. Grief, Moses could see it now…grief was what had transformed his vibrant, beautiful Ianto into this shadow that seemed one hiccup away from melting to the ground in a heap of sadness. He knew grief, he knew I well, and sadly, Moses thought his Ianto knew too much of it.

Owen…the Man in White. Something terrible had happened to him…perhaps even as terrible as death. Moses felt a pang as he recalled his Estelle but settled next to his Ianto and offered his own silent, composed presence…his Ianto needed him and he would not shame his kind by failing him. He purred loudly when he felt his Ianto absently reach for him, his fingers not really petting him, rather tangling up within his fur, anchoring himself to a living being that had not, once again, left him.

His Ianto sat back from the desk, still in his suit, with a stack of folders besides him. He turned to Moses once more and laid back, the fingers moving gently down his back. Moses meowed in appreciation and sympathy for his Ianto's loss (for while he had never really gotten along with the Man in White, he knew he had been a good friend to his Ianto), nudging the hand when it reached up to scratch behind his ears. He and his Ianto stayed like that for a time, silent, except for the purrs and small meows, and together. His Ianto took a deep breath and gave him one last tickle before he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the folders beside him. He still looked terribly sad but there was a tiny bit of light back in those eyes.

"Thanks, Moe. Don't wait up for me, I'll be back in a day or so." He gave Moses a very tiny, fragile smile but it was enough.

Moses felt like he had done what he needed…the rest would have to heal over time (as cliché as that sounded, Moses agreed with the Human sentiment in terms of grief).

However, he should have none that things would not proceed normally with the 'Torchwood' business and the Stomper around. His Ianto's more angry mutterings of 'zombies' and 'idiots' a few days later were indicative of that. Moses did not know what a zombie was, per say, but it could not have been anything good. And when the Stomper finally made his appearance (as was expected by Moses…he was getting rather predictable), face somewhat apologetic while his Ianto's looked more than a bit angry, all he could do was sit back and watch them explode (which was more like a favorite pastime of his, if we were going to be honest).

"Jack, would you like to explain to me why Owen is a walking, talking corpse and we all had to battle 'Death' tonight? And please, be specific." His Ianto was seething.

Moses felt a cackle of evil glee rise up within him as hey all turned towards the Stomper. This was going to be good.

TBC…

**

Cliffhangar??!! Well, kind of. The conclusion of this fight will be in the next chapter…because let's face it, not a lot Moses can do with Owen and the really sad bride plotline. Cheers.


	10. Part 10

Title: The Life and Times of Ianto Jones as Witnessed by a Distinguished Feline (10/12)  
Pairing: Jack/Ianto main, but there's a whole lot of everything in the mix.  
Rating: PG-13-R  
Summary: Moses had a good life. In fact, he was inclined to believe he had an exceptionally good life. And then he lost Estelle. Now he has Ianto, and he thinks maybe it was always meant to be. Witness the life and loves of Ianto Jones through the eyes of one extremely observant feline.  
Disclaimer: RTD and BBC owns them...I cry a little on the inside typing those words.  
Warnings/Spoilers: Oh...just about everything. Also, there is minor bashing...but it hardly counts, it's from a cat ^_^.  
Authors notes: A different look into everyone's favorite Tea-boy, through a distinctly different pair of eyes. Reviews are adored and cherished and I would love to hear what everyone thinks! Enjoy.

Part Ten: A Most Startling Account of Human Emotion (and how Foolish, but Beautiful, this Makes Humans Act, per Moses) 

Moses' tail twitched in anticipation as he sat, inconspicuously, beside the couch on the floor, his eyes darting between his Ianto and the Stomper. He flicked his ears back and internally cheered for how abashed the Stomper appeared (a most unusual expression for the arrogant Human to be sure, Moses thought) in the face of his Ianto's stony face and bow-tight posture. The Stomper was only able to keep the abashed look on his face for a moment or so, before the ever present smirk and overconfidence took its place; his Ianto was not amused and Moses' tail swished even faster.

"It's not anything to worry about; Owen's back, Martha's fine, and we beat Death. We should be celebrating if you ask me."

"That isn't an answer, Jack." His Ianto's eyes narrowed dangerously and he moved his arm out of the Stomper's reach. Moses purred in approval and shot the Stomper a nasty glare (he may have reached an understanding with the Stomper, but he wasn't about to make him think they were the best of friends).

"Why are you so worked up about this?"

"Why aren't you? It was you who decided the glove wasn't for our use the first time, why did you risk a den full of Weevils to find another and bring Owen back to a half-life? Did you really think this would be what he'd want?"

"I think he didn't want or deserve to die like he did!"

His Ianto's eyes narrowed even further and his hands clenched tightly at his sides. "That's the job, Jack, it's what you told all of us when we started, what you warned against, what we all accepted! You think I believe Owen wanted to die at that compound at twenty-eight years old? He didn't, they never do, but that doesn't change what happens!"

The Stomper continued to get angry the more his Ianto's words cut through the façade of nonchalance to the real regret Moses sensed within him, but Moses was beginning to feel as if he was peeping on something he shouldn't. His Ianto wasn't upset at just the Stomper for whatever he did…he was upset about something much larger. Something that made his eyes look so very haunted and brought grief to the forefront of his face. Moses looked back over at the Stomper, waiting for that proverbial light-bulb to go off and realize not all was well with his Ianto (Moses understood he was putting quite a bit of faith into the Stomper's observational skills…but he was a captain of sorts, the mama cat of the 'Torchwood' business, he'd have to be somewhat competent at noticing when his kittens were upset).

"So I should've done nothing? Not brought him back?"

"You should've thought about what you were bringing him back to! He's not alive and he's stuck here surrounded by us, unable to breathe, eat, anything, and he's completely aware, has every one of his memories. He'll never be whole and we're not going to be able to fix him and he'll have to try and exist knowing that…he'll be miserable and we'll be lucky if he doesn't hate us at the end of the day. He'll be just like…it's just like…"

Lisa.

Moses flattened his ears against his skull and meowed softly, piteously for his poor Ianto; how many times, how many days would Lisa haunt him? It really wasn't fair…Moses had half a mind to pray to Bast to let this Lisa know she had to stop monopolizing his Ianto's mind…she had to let him go so he could.

The light bulb finally went off in the Stomper's head almost immediately (Moses had to give credit where it was due because when it mattered, the Stomper was very good at reading his Ianto). He didn't hesitate or smirk when he stepped forward and gathered Moses' Ianto in his arms, keeping him safe and steady while old sadness mingled with new. Moses hopped onto the couch and meowed in sympathy again, sitting primly and honestly contrite, though he was happy to hear the whispered murmurs the Stomper was giving his Ianto (warm whispers were something Humans were so very good at, Moses admired).

Moses watched over the two Humans discreetly, trusting the Stomper to do his part and help clean up the mess he invariably caused (Moses had no doubt that whatever had happened concerning Owen and 'zombies' was the Stomper's doing entirely), starting with helping piece back together his Ianto. Moses understood Human grief, it was so very close to feline after all, but he could not begin to know how to heal it. Soothe yes, but his Ianto did not need to be soothed…he had probably been soothed for too long and now it had festered for too long. He needed more and, unfortunately, the Stomper was the best candidate for the job (a part of Moses loathed even thinking such a thing).

He settled down into a more comfortable position the longer they stood there, tucking his legs and feet under his body, his eyes squinting in contentment before he directed his attention back to the situation at hand. The Stomper's face was hidden from his Ianto's face, which was tucked into his shoulder and neck, and that fact was what Moses figured allowed the true look of remorse, regret, and self-loathing to settle over the attractive features. His Ianto was wrong, the Stomper DID regret whatever he had engineered concerning the Doctor Owen…he regretted it more than you could imagine. Moses bowed his head and gave the Stomper his privacy; in such a sad situation, Moses could push aside his dislike for the odd-smelling Human and offer him that much (as vindictive as felines can be, they are also quite honorable when necessary, thank you).

"I am sorry, Ianto. I didn't—this wasn't supposed to happen to him."

"I know that, we all do, but it has and you can't ignore it. He won't be the same and he'll resent that…" His Ianto's voice was muffled and incredibly low, but Moses' sharp ears caught every sad word.

"You—you can't imagine what I was thinking but…I'm going to have to deal with this, with losing each of you and—I didn't want to start so soon. Guess that was pretty selfish of me."

"Maybe, but you're…unique, it's understandable." Ianto pulled away enough so that he could focus on the Stomper's face, which reverted back to a less harsh version of guilt and self-hatred. He looked down, as if contemplating his words and whether he should really say them (another queer Human trait felines did not understand, evasion and cushioning the truth, such hassles), but he held fast and there was determination burning in his eyes. Moses felt a swell of pride bloom in his chest for his Ianto.

"I need you to promise me something, Jack. When it's my turn and this job catches up with me, please let me go. I know it's not fair to you and it will hurt, I know, but I don't want what Owen is forced into. I had to watch Lisa turn into something ugly because I couldn't let her go like she should've, and we might have to watch Owen do the same thing over time. I don't want you to watch me do the same."

Moses sat up and felt a thrill of understanding and acceptance flow through him, even as the Stomper's face contorted into one of pain and sorrow, at his dear, strong Ianto's words. Moses knew at that moment, that it was quite likely his Ianto would leave him before his lives were spent on this earth, because of the 'Torchwood' business and who his Ianto was, but in the end, it would be his choice. It would be sad, and it would hurt to be sure, but it would make whatever time he was with them worthwhile. Moses did not think he would ever have regretted meeting his Ianto, and even though perhaps the Stomper would like to think so, he wouldn't either. Moses meowed and stretched on the couch, drawing both of their attentions for a moment.

"Attention whore," the Stomper growled.

"Only because he knows it bothers you," his Ianto smiled. He looked back at the Stomper and appealed with a look of utter acceptance and poise. "Jack, can you promise me that? Please? If that means that you'd rather not be—"

The Stomper kissed his Ianto so soundly, Moses felt a sudden bashfulness come over him (quite uncharacteristic, let it be assured, felines are not easily ruffled by such things) and he looked away. "You've got your damn promise, all right? But if you think for one second that you're getting away that easily—"

"Then we have an understanding. And I forgive you for going off on some half-cocked plan to steal a glove from a bunch of Weevils…but you know Gwen won't, she's funny about these things." For the first time that evening, his Ianto smiled, really smiled. The Stomper, grudgingly mind you, returned it and kissed his Ianto again.

Moses yawned, happy that the storm had passed yet again, and settled back down on the couch. He'd let them talk now without peeking in, talk about Owen, and maybe Lisa, and maybe even the day that the Stomper was already dreading with all his heart, content that all was well for the time being. And really (as any respectful feline will tell you), that was all that really mattered in the end.

**

His Ianto was home, alone (an ever increasing and rare occurrence, Moses mused) a week or so later, reading a thick book on Moses' favorite couch by the window, casually sipping a cup of coffee and petting Moses absently, who was curled up beside him. Moses enjoyed these rare moments as best he could, which meant he was dozing and lazily enjoying the tickle of his Ianto's fingers from time to time, resting his head ad back against his Human's side. Whatever tragedy concerning the Doctor Owen was, it seemed to have subsided some, or at least was not the most pressing issue anymore, and Moses was happy for it. His Ianto was feeling worlds better and had aired out a good many of his demons to the Stomper.

Moses reluctantly was beginning to respect and enjoy the Stomper's presence once more, but if it made his Ianto happy, then that was enough (after all, vengeance could not last forever).

Moses began to feel himself drift further off when a very strange, but beautiful sound rang in his ears and heart. He was up immediately and after a few rudimentary stretching, he hopped over his Ianto to the top of the couch to look out the window. He meowed in awe (yes, awe) at the sight that met his eyes and he meowed louder to get his Ianto's attention, swinging his tail back and forth fast enough to hit and annoy him. His Ianto ignored him for a few minutes (a truly futile effort) before he blew out an annoyed enough sigh and glared at him.

"What, Moe, what?"

Moses meowed again and looked back outside, purring in content at the warm feeling the music welled up within him. His Ianto pushed himself up and looked at the window as well, Moses suppressing his feline smirk at the surprised sound that escaped his Ianto. His Ianto rested his elbows on the back of the couch beside where Moses sat and stared out with him, a happy smile stretching across his face at the myriad of swirling lights and sounds in the sky. Moses glanced back at his Ianto for a moment, amused at how kitten-like, all curiosity and wonder, his Ianto looked for the moment, before he looked back at the swirling lights.

"Beautiful," his Ianto murmured.

Moses purred in agreement, even though he didn't see the lights the same way his Ianto did. It was the feeling the music and lights invoked within them both; it was the same no matter if you were fortunate enough to be Feline or stuck being Human. Why, Moses even imagined that Canines could appreciate such a sight of beauty and wonder. He purred deeply once more and settled into what his Ianto had affectionately dubbed his 'kitty loaf' position, resting his eyes, meowing in appreciation when his Ianto's fingers tickled up his spine. He sighed and let the blinking lights sing him to sleep.

**

Weddings. Moses knew of the word and was trying to understand the baffling concept it invoked while also trying very hard not to stare at the very large, very obviously pregnant the Human Gwen was (she seemed quite upset so staring rudely most likely boost her spirits). He failed and looked back at the miserable Human, puzzling to himself how in Bast's name she was carrying a litter that didn't smell a thing like her or the large man pacing around his Ianto's flat (Moses could only assume this was the Human Gwen's mate…he wondered briefly the propriety of lusting after the Stomper when one already had a suitable mate but Humans were queer creatures). He crept a bit closer, ears flicked back and nose twitching, trying very hard to not call attention to how very rude he was being (Felines, while not overly concerned with manners, certainly respected them when it concerned a soon-to-be-mother).

"This cannot be happening…"

Moses glanced at the despondent, almost sad words that spilled from Human Gwen's mouth, feeling a swell of pity well up at how honestly upset she appeared. Weddings were apparently a very important day for Human females…he blinked and went back to his inquisitive sniffing (really, what could she be carrying that smelled so wrong?).

"Lovely, maybe we should just—"

"No! No, we are having this wedding today! I will not let this," she pointed emphatically at her swollen abdomen, "ruining it! And would you stop sniffing me, you ruddy cat!" Moses glared and sniffed indignantly as he hopped off _his_ couch and looked away from her (she had no right in getting so upset at him, he hadn't gotten her with that strange litter…)

The Human male, Rye or something (Moses wasn't much bothered, he wasn't his Ianto's mate), got a mulish look and looked ready to explode when his Ianto finally reappeared. Moses wasn't exactly sure why his Ianto had ushered the agitated (to put it mildly) couple into the flat, asked the Human Gwen a few questions with an odd of string and hurried out, promising to return shortly. But he was back and with one last dirty look at Gwen, he hurried over to his Ianto, meowing in greeting, mindless of the large, white thing he was carrying.

"Yes, hello Moe."

"Ianto, you can't just bring that in here! Rhys can't see it!"

"No, he can't see you wearing it. Now, take that and make sure it fits."

The Human Gwen shuffled awkwardly to her feet and grabbed the white thing huffily, waddling off into his Ianto's bedroom. Moses purred happily when his Ianto reached down and patted him on the head.

"I can't thank you enough, mate," the large Human, Reeses or something, said. He wiped an equally large hand across his face and tried to smile (honestly, it looked more like a grimace, but Moses couldn't fault him…his mate was impregnated with a litter that was not his after all).

"All part of a day's work." His Ianto smiled softly at the large Human. "Well, not everyday but often enough."

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen Jack's coat? Do you know how often I take that to get cleaned and patched?"

His Ianto and the large Human shared a small laugh right as the Human Gwen came back out, a small smile on her face. "It fit all right, then?"

"Yes…thank you, Ianto, really. It's wonderful." Moses purred again at how genuinely grateful Gwen appeared…it almost made up for her earlier rudeness towards to him (almost…he still thought that she only had herself to be mad at for being with a litter…herself or the 'Torchwood' business).

"Well, then I think you two need to head to the hotel, don't want to be late. Gwen, Tosh is waiting for you at her flat, she'll head there with you and see if she can get any lead on who might be the Nostrovite . We'll be there shortly after."

Gwen nodded, bundling the white thing tightly in her arms while her mate ushered her out of the flat. Moses craned his head up and meowed at his Ianto, still quite confused about the whole affair. His Ianto smiled for him and crouched down, tickling under his chin oh so wonderfully.

"You don't want to know, Moe. You really don't. Now, don't wait up for me, we have a wedding to save from alien attack after all, it could take awhile. Leave that poor Doberman across the way alone and no scratching the couches."

Moses meowed in understanding (not that he would be following those instructions, but it was polite to acknowledge they had been given). His Ianto gave him one last scratch and was out the door, mumbling under his breath about how he hated weddings, making sure to lock the door after him. Moses stretched his entire length as he yawned before promptly curling back up on the couch, content to just let the events from the past moments slip past him.

He napped for a good time before he heard the door open again. It was quite dark outside and his Ianto looked thoroughly exhausted; Moses meowed weakly in greeting, to tired to get up just yet. His Ianto smiled at him and tugged his already loosened tie away, exhaling loudly and in a manner that made him seem quite young, almost kitten-ish.

"Oh Moe, how on Earth do you put up with us?" Moses did not answer but nudged at the hand petting him. He hated it when the Stomper did something to put that resigned look on his Ianto's face. "At least the wedding went all right…not that anyone beyond us and Rhys will remember, but still it could have been a lot worse."

His Ianto left and began his nightly rituals sans his usual neat way of undressing (this of course only applied when the Stomper was not present…when he was, clothes were strewn all about no matter what), draping his jacket over the couch and toeing off his shoes in the hall, not bothering to pick them up. Moses yawned and stretched some more before he hopped down and tiredly followed his Ianto to his bedroom. He hopped on the bed and curled at the foot of the bed, eyes squinting shut in sleepiness. It was some time before he heard and felt the jingle of his Ianto's small phone on the bed, starting him awake (only a little though…he certainly wasn't frightened by some jingle).

His Ianto padded back into the room, dressed in loose cotton pants and a shirt with one of those odd teeth-brushes in his mouth. He looked at the small phone, rolled his eyes (though Moses saw he did so with that small, happy grin), and took the teeth-brushes out of his mouth, heading back into the bathroom to spit out the white foam before he answered.

"You know, I don't really think we should extend our wedding fairy help into their wedding night….as much as we all know you'd like to, I don't think Gwen would appreciate it."

Ah, the Stomper. No one else could inspire such honest exasperation overshadowed with affection in his Ianto than him.

"Is that so? Hm...even if you said it was for research. That would only work on Tosh."

His Ianto was silent before he smiled, ever so slowly, and turned off the light in the bathroom, sitting beside Moses.

"Then you should come over. Yes…don't worry, I'll be up."

Moses blinked and lay back down. He was going to enjoy his time on the bed while he still could…before the Stomper came and unceremoniously booted him out once again. Still, he purred deeply…maybe, just maybe, the Stomper had finally clued in. He smiled inwardly at his Ianto, who was now happily brewing that foul coffee, letting his humming lull him back to sleep.

**

Sorry for the delay, the last few should come out much faster than this, and yes, there will be a special epilogue/CoE oneshot set within this universe that will follow cannon as this entire story does. Although, I think you'll all be pleased with what I, and Moses have in store for you!


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